#should i make a fitness gang tag?
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big believer in keiko and kuwabara being besties like. you're my best friend's best friend and instead of it being awkward they realize "hey i really like hanging out with you!" this is ofc extremely detrimental to yusuke who now has two people on his ass
they share textbooks keiko quizzes kuwabara til he drops and she asks for fitness advice. why do i think this? I simply think it'd be funny asf if Keiko randomly got abs of steel. yusuke walks in on them doing sit ups while testing each other on vocab and almost breaks into tears.
"Keiko stop turning kuwabara into a fucking nerd he's wasting all his time studying instead of goofing off" "yusuke shut up and feel my abs" "holy shit these guys are like rock hard" "right??"
Kuwabara gets glasses and yusuke genuinely thinks it's a bit at first but kuwa is like "man seriously I realized part of the reason school was hard was cos I couldn't make out the words in my books half the time I need these things fr" classic yyh collapse in shock moment
Keiko and Kuwa are there for each other when yusuke goes off doing god knows what in Makai. They know he'll be back but it can be shitty not knowing what he's doing when he'll be back. Kuwabara reassures her that Yusuke does give a shit even when he leaves and Keiko reminds Kuwabara of why he doesn't need to drop everything and join him. He'll be back he'll be back he'll be back.
Kuwabara can only make simple meals Shizuru forced him to learn and Keiko doesn't really cook even tho her parents own a restaurant so when yusuke is in the human world there's cheers and applause "finally I get to eat 🙏🏼" "aren't you guys graduating college soon how are you surviving when I'm not here" "get back in the kitchen boy" "yeah I need another bowl 😌" "im poisoning ur food"
because girls and guys apparently can't just hang out school mates are sure Keiko is dating kuwabara but some think she's with yusuke and others think the two are fighting over her and she just looks at them like they're stupid if anyone ever asks directly
as for Kuwabara nobody knows whether he has a gf or a bf cos sometimes a polite brunette with a sweet smile visits him on campus and they talk at a picnic table (she's seen hitting him sometimes tho) but other times a guy with slicked back hair and devil may care attitude like. swaggers up to kuwa when he's with some classmates and drops a homemade lunch in his lap "you forgot this dumbass" "ahh thanks yusuke you're a life saver 🥺" "just eat your food" inside is the cutest box lunch and yusuke's glare keeps the people kuwa was with from cracking jokes. kuwabara acts like this is very normal
anyway i just think it'd be cool if they hung out and yusuke was equal parts delighted and grumpy about it
#this could be poly tbh i was really just going for a friendship angle but literally either makes sense#I just think Keiko would randomly wanna get fit to put some energy into something besides school and kuwa could help#yusuke is like oh no my smart friend and my strong friend are merging their traits and hanging out w/o me :( by talos...#he doesn't get left out ofc but they do gang up on him sometimes because they think it's hilarious#it's not lost on me the idea of yusuke being into intellectuals considering how smart those 2 are#I was just thinking about this cos I'm writing a kuwameshi fic rn#And it's Keiko pov so it focuses on her relationship with Kuwabara and how she fits into his and yusuke's dynamic#yu yu hakusho#keiko yukimura#yusuke urameshi#kazuma kuwabara#i guess i should tag this#kuwameshi#cos i do look at through that lens#idk if they have a poly ship name tho#important to note that when kuwa thanks yusuke for bringing lunch he's being insufferable and#using the the most over the top sweet voice poking fun at yusuke for basically malewifing himself
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Bedridden
If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️🔥
Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)
Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼
There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter.
Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there.
And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew.
Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.
Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration.
You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.”
Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”
“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”
“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.”
“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.”
Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.”
“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add.
“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.”
“Joel, you look awful.”
You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes.
“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.”
“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”
“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”
In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.”
“Taking care of you,” you reply.
“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”
Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been.
Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.”
“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.”
“You are, too.”
“Am not.”
“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.
“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.”
Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”
You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.”
“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.
“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”
You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle.
Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?”
“Happy.”
You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.
Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things.
Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed.
In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.
Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home.
You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”
“Yeah, darlin’.”
“I have your clothes. And a towel.”
“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.”
You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”
You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome.
“Are you feeling better?”
“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him.
“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.”
Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.”
You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases.
In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.
“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”
“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”
“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”
You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”
Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.”
“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”
“Plenty.”
“How much is plenty?”
“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.”
“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.”
Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse.
You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.”
You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”
“M’fine. Mind your business.”
You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”
“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”
“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.”
“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”
You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”
“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?”
“Just lay down, Joel.”
“Did you take that from my fridge?”
“I did.”
You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”
“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.
Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so.
And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!”
“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.”
“How many times do I have to say it?”
“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.
You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him.
Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”
“Oh, you’re such a dick.”
Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”
“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.
“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.
“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.”
You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time.
The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.
“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”
You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature.
He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.
The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”
“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly.
“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.”
Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”
“No. Quit that.”
But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.
“Are you falling asleep?”
“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.
“You should sleep.”
“Nah.”
You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”
“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.”
“Is that so? A punishment?”
“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.”
“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.
You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man.
If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man.
You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.
“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.
“Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”
“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”
Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.”
Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.
Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him.
Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.”
“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.
“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”
You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”
Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.”
“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.”
You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”
You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing.
You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy.
“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”
“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.
Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.”
Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.
Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.”
You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him.
Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.”
Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders.
“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”
“Just - just a second.”
“Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.”
Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone.
You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone.
Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them.
You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.”
You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now.
“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.”
You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.
“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.”
“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.”
Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…
“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -”
“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.”
That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest.
While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying.
Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.
You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it.
Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles.
“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest.
“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.”
Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.
Joel sniffles. “M’not.”
“Mhm. Sure.”
“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”
You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips.
“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?”
“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.
“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”
You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller/reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#grumpy joel#joel miller tlou#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#Joel miller#pedro pascal characters#tlou#tlou smut#the last of us#Joel tlou#tlou Joel
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♱⋅── sylus x reader x zayne (soon)
♱⋅── synopsis: Death haunts you like a vengeful lover. You’re dispatched on a mission to capture a fugitive in Linkon City's forbidden N109 Zone, but of course old ghosts come back to haunt you, and this time you’re unable to resist the pull of your twisted connection. AKA the enemies to lovers aphrodisiac fic.
♱⋅── tags READ CAREFULLY: mdni, smut, semi non-con (aphrodisiac), bondage, semi-public sex, heavy enemies to lovers I don't play around with that shit, breeding, there’s sharp objects used in inappropriate ways, blood kink probably, again please mind the tags
♱⋅── word count: 8.5K
♱⋅── art: @/Shanyi708944594
Shostakovich's Waltz No. 2, a bad omen if you’ve ever heard one.
The low strum of the cello jumps to life as you enter the ball, each sting echoing from the marble arches to the dance floor, the gentle strum of the accompanying violins muffled by the floor-to-ceiling curtains.
She’s a deceiving song, breaking traditional waltz rules with her three-fourth tempo, the two cellos battling for dominance as their battle song announces your unplanned arrival.
Your heels click in time to the emerging saxophone, and you disappear into the crowd. Unfortunately, you don't have the liberty of indulging yourself in music tonight. Tonight, you have a job.
The Hunter's Association only gave you a name- Kovi Rochelle. Who were you to ask questions? It's far from the first time you've snuck into the N109 Zone, and as you scan the crowd, you make mental notes of all you recognize. On the ballroom floor is an heiress to an illicit firearms company, and her dance companion is the right-hand man to a minor gang. Near the orchestra are a few faces you recognize from a drug syndicate, and near the disgustingly lavish food no one was foolish enough to touch was the daughter of an oil tycoon.
No sign of a certain crow, you note, narrowing your eyes. No sign of your target either.
It takes you longer than you would have liked to find Kovi, but you find a man fitting his description well enough in a far corner of the hall, face twisted into a crooked leer as he's saying something inaudible over the orchestra to a waitress. Sixties, full beard, crooked nose and a penchant for younger girls.
Your hand slips against your thigh, closer to where the burn of cool metal rests hidden beneath the silk of your dress.
The waltz is nearly over, and just as cellos reach their climax, you feel a hand snatch your own.
"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you, sweetie."
Your body goes rigid, but the hand pulling you into a twirl is vicious and the fanged smile that follows even more so.
The urge to pull your gun is tempered only by years of Hunter experience. That, and the simple fact that should you fail to retrieve this target, the Association would punish you ten-fold.
So you meet Sylus’s blood-red gaze with a deathly sweet smile, baring your teeth. “How disappointing, so you’re immune to poisons too. I’ll keep it in mind for next time.” You try to keep the irritation out of your voice, but his lips curl, showing off his misaligned fangs with all the kindness of a hungry dog.
“I certainly hope you do. Despite not being able to die, it’s certainly no fun to writhe around in pain for several hours.” Sylus grabs your jaw, causing you to stumble forward as he forces your chin up, hot tongue raking up the side of your neck as you hiss. “Tetrodotoxin? Addictive.”
“Disgusting bastard.” He saw through you yet again.
Sylus laughs, a deep, loud chuckle that catches other guests’ attention before you nearly claw his face to shut him up. Your hand only makes it halfway, impact broken when he grabs your wrist instead, tightening to the point of pain.
But you're now too close to the dance floor to refuse without drawing any more unwanted attention, so you place your hand against his shoulder before digging your nails in through the expensive silk of his blazer. You hope he bleeds.
Nothing good would come from it, but gods, would it taste sweet.
Something flashes in the depths of his unnaturally red eye, and Sylus chuckles to himself before sliding his fingers from your wrist into your palm, taking your hand to lead you in a slow, calculated turn. You watch his eyes dilate in predatory satisfaction at the bruises left against your wrist.
"If you’re truly humoring me with a dance, then I take it you haven't taken out your target either."
So he knows your objective. You stare up at Sylus directly, nearly crushing his foot with your heel when the tempo jumps again, speeding up with the shrill of the violins. "Tonight are you my ally or enemy?”
“I’m whatever you want me to be.”
Your eyes narrow, but his words are far too cryptic to give away the truth. Instead, you focus on the rhythm of the song, the sound of your heels, and the steady heartbeat of Sylus' chest as it beats against your own.
"I must say though, I wish you applied this distraction tactic on me when we first met." His hand strays from its spot on your waist, palm searing into your back as he traces up and down your exposed spine, giving a possessive squeeze to your ass. "After all, how could any man stay weary with utter temptation walking around?"
You grit your teeth, purposefully stepping forward out of tune to press the bulge of your gun against Sylus's thigh. "I swear I’ll kill you."
For Caleb. For your grandmother. For your own god-damn sanity.
His fanged smile widens, and he leans in close, whispering against the shell of your ear, “Oh yes, how I love to watch you try. Got closer last time, didn’t you?” And he spins you away, violently turning you again and again until you have no choice but to rely on his arm lest you fall.
As your mind spins all your prior attempts get flung back at you, from poisoning him through wine to stabbing him in his sleep, Sylus’ body was damn near immortal. More infuriating still, he only goads you further after every attempted assassination, fighting you unconscious and leaving you in Linkon City with only a crow feather and letter detailing all the points of failure from your latest attempt.
A final spin, and the world blurs. Sylus pulls you back with a force that makes you stumble, and he dips you with a chuckle. "I must say, I've never had such a passionate lover."
By the time the chorus ends, Sylus pulls you back into his arms, dipping you as you gasp against his chest, head spinning and blood rushing furiously to your head. But the song is far from over, and you intend to get more information out of the man before he disappears once more. If he comes between you and your target…
Sylus' gaze is unreadable as you look up, and his hand tightens on your waist, guiding you into a steady tempo once again. A blur of other dancers swing by, but the only thing you can focus on now is the man before you, staring right past your rotted soul with those blood-red eyes. Eyes of a sinner. Of a mistake. Just like you.
"A little birdie told me that someone here is in possession of an Aether Core." He taunts, spinning you so your back is to his chest. "Admit to yourself what it is you’re really after, and I'll give it to you, sweetie. All you have to do is say the word."
Your lips part in surprise, and Sylus grins, pulling you closer so he can whisper in your ear. "I don’t mind being used by you. After all, I want to use you too. All you have to do is say yes."
You’re surrounded by him, a mixture of spice and cologne, and can see the way his ashen hair falls over his forehead, and the way his lips are pared just slightly as you pull him in closer by the nape of his neck. He led you to the protocore last time. He killed your family. He saved you. He's the reason everything you loved is gone.
Your lips skim up his neck, and you smile as you feel Sylus tense in the midst of the waltz as you give him your answer. "Fuck you."
He’s frozen for a beat before breaking into another laugh. "Only if you wish. I doubt your doctor friend would be too keen on the idea though."
Your breath hitches, eyes wide, but Sylus' laughter only grows. The waltz is coming to a close, and in one smooth motion, Sylus releases his hold on your waist, only to grab your hand and bring it to his lips.
"Until next time, sweetie." He places a kiss to the back of your hand and disappears as the cellos strum their final chord. “As much as I’d love to stay and listen to my little kitten hiss some more, I’m unfortunately running late for my appointment. And I believe you are too.”
And as quickly as he had stolen you away, he's gone, and you're left with the sound of your heart hammering in your ears and the coldness of his absence.
"Tch, damn it." You curse, glancing around the room for any sign of the waitress and your target.
Kovi and the potential Aether Core Sylus told you about might still be in the ballroom. But you don't have time to find both. Not when Sylus knows who you're after. Not if he realizes why the Association needs you to bring back Kovi alive.
Your gaze flickers across the crowd, but the man is nowhere in sight. The orchestra has already begun their next song, and a few waiters have already begun moving in with the next round of food and drink, and while most people are caught up in the music, your gaze is locked on a familiar waitress struggling with a tray of drinks and a woman dressed in black, dragging her back into the server's hall.
You don't have time to decide. You rush after them, slipping past another waiter and ducking around a group of gossiping socialites. The door leading to the back of the mansion slams behind the women, and you push it open, stepping inside the dark corridor.
"Come on, the boss said to leave him there!"
"But that bitch-!"
"It's a lost cause."
"Let's just go. He'll be dead soon anyways."
You wait until the footsteps have faded and the doors close behind them before slowly standing, taking off your heels, and slipping your gun out from its holster, metal cold against smooth silk.
There are four doors along the corridor, three to the left, one at the very end, and all are locked. You check each one, but only the last has any signs of movement. It's a small door, the size of an office closet, and when you press your ear to the wood, you can hear the sound of voices.
"We're in the last round of betting. I assume you're ready to finally make a decision, Mr. Sylus?" Fuck. That’s Kovi’s voice.
"What if I want to raise the stakes?"
A bang. "The key to these games, boy, is knowing when to quit."
"I always like to put everything on the line. Besides, it's hard to gamble with something that isn't yours."
"Oh no, she's mine alright. Paid quite a hefty price for her, you of all people should know that." A muffled set of insults, punctuated by a deep set of laughter that has your blood running cold. "White wolf of Onychinus, figured you'd be more impressive."
There’s a distinct click of a trigger and the scramble of chairs being kicked over. "All in." And then, the sound of a gunshot.
Your instincts kick in and you slam into the door, shoulder burning in protest. It's hollow, thank god, and you have enough sense to duck as a set of bullets fire, ripping the door into a thousand splinters.
Sylus' face is twisted in a snarl, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, and a woman in a waiter's uniform lying at his feet. Her body is still convulsing, a set of bullet wounds in her chest, and you realize it's the woman from before, the one who was with the other waitress.
And your target.
Kovi was slumped against a plush leather chair, bleeding out onto an unfinished poker game, soaking through cards and chips from the gushing set of bullet wounds buried in his brain.
"You killed him," you hiss, and Sylus only raises a brow, watching as you step over the woman and walk over to the other body slumped in the corner. "He was alive, you bastard. And you shot him."
"He was a traitor."
"Not to me." You hiss, and the click of your pistol echoes, pointing it straight at Sylus. "I needed him alive, and you knew it."
He looks unperturbed, and you can only glare when he smiles, shrugs, and steps closer to your gun, metal kissing bare flesh. You don’t so much as flinch, not even as his smile turns wolfish, scanning you up and down before settling on your weapon once again. "And I'm supposed to care?"
You pull the trigger.
The bullet shoots through where his heart would have been, but Sylus is already mid-lunge, twisting your wrist sideways. The shot goes wide. His jabs are precise, punching against the tender inside of your wrist and elbow before shoving you against the wall, the entire room rattling on impact, a mirror falling as it shatters.
"If the Association wanted him alive, then perhaps they should have sent someone else," He taunts.
Death haunts you like a vengeful lover. Sylus knows this well.
You twist, still holding onto your gun, but Sylus only presses his body closer, using his monstrous height to his advantage, tightening until your arms are going numb.
The look in his eyes is knowing, and Sylus scoffs down at you. “But he’s not why you came here, is it?”
You stop struggling.
His right eye glows that sickly red once more, and you straighten against his hold, jabbing your chin up as you meet his gaze. You know he’s digging around your mind again, and so you spit out the truth. “Where’s the core?”
“So she admits it. Here, it’s all yours." Sylus says and reaches into his coat. He pulls out a small, blood-soaked stone and drops it at your feet, and you can't help but stare, noticing a moment too late as your gaze snaps back up to meet his.
“What? You want it, don't you?" Sylus whispers, and his fingers trailing up your sides, pushing your dress up. You thrash against him, and his other hand wraps around your throat. "Then take it."
You kick and scratch and hiss, a vicious distraction all while tightening the grip on your gun.
"Come on, sweetheart. I know you can do better than that."
A gunshot cuts off his sentence.
Sylus falls to his knee with a groan, bullet traveling clean through his thigh. It's not enough to kill him, you know it, but he'll heal in a matter of seconds, so you take your aim against his heart instead, pressing the muzzle of the gun into his chest. The heat from the metal sears into Sylus' flesh, and as you force the gun closer as you yank his head up by the hair, rewarded with a loud moan as Sylus rolls his eyes back at the pain.
"You can't kill me."
"No," you whisper, pulling him close, "but I can hurt you."
His grin only widens, a bloody gash curling across his face as he stares up at you. “Such arrogance.”
Sylus leans into your touch, and then a hand covers your own on the gun, fingers laced around the trigger.
"What are you waiting for? Do it, I want to feel it, I want you to finish it." His words are low and you feel a rush of adrenaline at finally having him at your mercy, of having him at the brink of death.
He yanks the gun closer, and thus you as well, looking up into your eyes with a sick devotion only a sinner could have.
But you’ve learned from last time. So you curl your finger, and pull the trigger.
The bullet never reaches.
A web of dark energy stops it mere centimeters from Sylus' chest, and he sends it ricocheting back so it speeds by your collarbone and neck with a furious red trail.
You don't have enough time to scream.
Sylus pulls you down alongside him and slams your body against the ground, skull rattling against the marble. You scramble to your hands before he shoves you back to the floor with his palm, pinning you beneath him and pressing his lips to the fresh wound on your neck.
"You taste divine." Sylus hisses, and he sucks against the wound as your blood runs down his chin, grabbing your wrists until something snaps and you drop the gun with a scream. It skirts across the floor, out of reach.
You buck under his weight, kicking your legs out until one digs into the bullet wound still closing on his thigh, fresh blood streaming down the both of you as he licks and sucks and bites against your neck, leaving a trail of raw marks and bruises.
With your free wrist, you unsheathe your dagger, driving it into Sylus’ neck. Dark tendrils of energy catch the blade, but your fury burns hotter, and you grant him a twin scar, slicing from the hollow of his collarbone up his neck.
Sylus moans, a strangled, guttural sound that goes straight between your thighs. You can see the muscle and skin knitting back together, the tendrils of shadows seeping out from his flesh and sealing the wound shut. But his grip on you remains.
You're both panting, blood dripping down your neck and Sylus' chest, but his eyes are dark and full of promise that makes your stomach twist.
"Do it again," he hisses, and he presses his hips into yours, letting you feel how hard he is through the fabric of his pants. "Cut me. Stab me. Kill me. All you have to do is try, sweetheart. Make it good this time, will you?"
You are not a fool. You know this is a challenge, a taunt, but you also know you can't back down.
So you push yourself up, knife glinting under the dim lights as you sink the blade into Sylus' throat, dragging a ragged line from one side to the other. Blood pours over his chest, drenching his shirt, and you can't help but watch in morbid fascination as the skin begins to knit itself back together, muscle and flesh growing and closing up, tendrils of dark energy wrapping and sealing the wound.
You almost want to lean in to taste it yourself.
Sylus makes a strangled sound from against your neck, still licking up your blood as you dig your nails into his fresh wound, pressing closer and closer still. Closer than flesh and blood would allow, bloody and raw and angry.
His tendrils of energy wrap around your throat just as your knife presses up against his, both of you panting heavily. “When will you admit it? From your past to your future, to even all the crimes you'll inevitably commit. You and I… we're made of the same sin.”
You twist to the side, unable to meet his glowing eye, and Sylus smiles, blood-stained and fanged.
“Look at me.” He growls, and his fingers wrap around your jaw, forcing you to look up, nose brushing his. The glow of his right eye is nearly blinding, a mixture of gold and red and orange that swirl together like fire.
Fire, corruption, and the same damned soul.
They flash before you. The faces of every soul you’ve taken, every mission you’ve accepted from the Association, every trophy you’ve never cried over that has granted you nothing but pride and misery.
And then flashes of your family, burning alive in the explosion that the demon before you set off. Burning flesh, screaming, the smell of sulfur.
You see the face of a man too good for you. Practical and cold, but so unfairly kind and selfless it makes your chest ache. Zayne.
Not that Zayne is yours, not in any measurable way. But he’s the man that is so perfectly beyond your reach that it gives you a semblance of hope for change, for atonement. He’s the man that you’ve decided to foolishly love until your last breath.
Worst of all, you know Sylus can see him now too.
Another flash of red. Sylus, staring down at you, his smile a cruel imitation of Zayne's.
"What do you want, little dove?"
"My revenge."
He smiles, and leans in, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh there. "I could give it to you. Everything you’ve ever wanted."
His touch burns, and you shudder, a mix of emotions twisting your gut. Fear, anger, desperation.
“I no longer want.” You hiss. “So stay out-” you gasp, reality and memory flickering together. “of-” you thrust the knife upwards, stabbing wildly until something connects. “-my fucking head!”
It's only when you hear the sickening crunch of flesh and the feel of blood pouring down your arm that you realize where you are. The memory of Zayne is gone, replaced by the present.
Sylus.
His eyes are wide, mouth agape and blood dripping down his chin. Your knife is buried deep in his palm, blade caught in his hand mere inches from his skull. Your vision blurs and the world spins, and the last thing you see is the sight of Sylus smiling, blood running down his cheek and his eye burning a brilliant, golden red.
And then the world bursts into smoke.
You feel it before you understand what has happened.
Throwing your hands above your head, you brace for an explosion or flash that never comes, the room blanketed by a cloud of thick smog that has your head spinning. A weight crushes you, and for a moment you think the ceiling caved until you realize it was Sylus who must have flung himself atop you at the moment of impact.
You think there’s an earthquake or aftershocks of another attack when you see your hand trembling, realizing it’s just your entire body convulsing against the floor as you inhale mouthfuls of the thick, cloying smoke. It tastes sticky and sweet at the back of your throat, cloying against your tongue and crawling under your skin. You think you might be dying.
Sylus is faring no better, chest heaving as he nearly falls atop you, barely holding himself up on his forearms. His mouth is a bloody mess, there's a gash on his forehead that refused to heal. The energy of his Evol leaks from him in a thick mist of dark matter that seeps in and out of his sweat-slicked flesh. He’s losing control of his power.
“What the fuck—“ a violent heat rips surges down your spine, a choked gasp seizing your lungs as you feel bursts of energy heat under your skin- your Evol’s power fluctuating wildly. The once familiar power now feels like a toxin, your very core vibrating, practically a bomb seconds away from detonating.
It wasn’t a shock grenade. Not smoke. Poison? Your vision is swimming, but Sylus is still holding you, and when you freeze his entire body convulses in laughter as you seem to finally piece together what has happened.
"An aphrodisiac. They're... those fucking bastards." You can’t even see where your gun is, the entire room lurching sideways as you try and crawl out from under Sylus.
But as soon as you knee him in the side trying to topple him over, you both freeze at the contact, the brush of bare skin enough to have you keening.
Sylus groans, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You can feel him shaking, every bulging muscle tensed beneath his torn clothes, and his lips press against your pulse, teeth sinking into the delicate skin there. Shadowy tendrils grow from his back, a spiderweb of raw power that he seems to have no control over as they piece into the ground with enough force to crack through marble. You flinch at the sight.
“Are you scared, little dove?” Like a spider’s legs, they support him as he staggers to his knees, caging you in against the floor. A moth in a web. “Perhaps you finally should be.”
He grabs you by the hair, tilting your head back so you have to look him in the eyes. You struggle to move, to push him off, but the mere touch only seems to rile the man above you. He groans, the sound low and guttural, and when you finally meet his gaze, his eye is a wild, glowing red, and he's looking at you like he wants to devour you.
A demon. You’re laying before a demon.
"What's wrong, sweetie? Too proud to give in?" He taunts.
"Not to you," you hiss, and you grab him by the collar, pulling him closer. "You're not even worth it."
Sylus' smile widens. "Still lying to yourself, aren’t you?"
Your skin burns, his touch leaving a trail of fire and desire. You can feel the aphrodisiac pulsing through your veins, a violent, angry heat that consumes everything it touches.
"Allow me to offer you a deal, then." Sylus' mouth twists in a snarl, and you feel his hands grip your waist. His nails dig into the exposed skin of your lower back, and Sylus pulls you closer, pressing his erection against your ass. "Run," he whispers, and his lips brush the shell of your ear. "Run as fast as you fucking can, because if I catch you I fuck you."
He pulls away, eye still glowing, turning into little more than a shadowed silhouette that towers over you. "And I won't be as gentle as your little boyfriend."
You don't remember when you start running.
One moment, Sylus is in front of you, a wicked, predatory smile curling across his face. And the next, he's gone, the sound of footsteps fading behind you and the smell of gunpowder and blood hanging heavy in the air.
He's close.
You can feel his power, feel the way the aphrodisiac has corrupted him. Every tendril of energy from his body feels like a physical thing, a thread of pure energy and darkness. You hear his breathing, the sound of his body slamming against the walls and the doors as he gives chase.
Somehow the aphrodisiac did more than just make his Evol stronger, Sylus himself seemed fundamentally changed. Stalking you in a half-limp like a predator enjoying the hunt, every muscle tensed underneath his fitted suit as though waiting for you to make a run for it. Waiting to finally pounce.
In the end it never mattered how strong you were. What stood before you was no man, but a monster.
“Don’t tell me that’s all you got, kitten? Come on, run faster, make it fun for me.”
Your heart leaps in your throat. Every inch of your body is alert, hyperaware of his echoing footsteps, following you no matter how many turns you take, no matter which stairs you climb, utterly unsure if you’re running closer or further from the exit.
But you force yourself to breathe, and you push off the walls and into a sprint. You have no weapons, no gun, but the only thing you can think of is running, running and getting as far away from Sylus as possible. Zayne. Zayne will know how to fix this, surely he knows a cure for the aphrodisiac.
Your steps are growing clumsy, and every breath you take now has you gasping, a burning need growing within. Every muscle in your body begins to tremble, and the heat is almost unbearable. You're not sure how much longer you can hold out.
You need to get to Zayne.
Turning yet another corner, you expect to see the main hallway of the mansion, nearly crying in relief at the sight of the door when the world lurches sideways.
A shadowed claw reaches up from the ground, yanking your ankle backward with a painful tug. You scream, throwing a burst of energy behind you as your Evol flares up, snarling at the shadow that follows you.
But the aphrodisiac has you weak. Your power is sporadic and unfocused, and another set of shadows wrap around your thighs and arms, rendering you immobile as they squeeze and pull at your over-sensitive flesh.
The sound that comes from your throat is one of pain and need.
Sylus laughs, a deep and rumbling chuckle that echoes through the empty hallway. He emerges from the shadows, a beast walking upright. He towers over you, his massive frame blocking the light, casting a long shadow across the floor.
"Are you afraid, little one?"
You can barely answer.
"Good."
Sylus moves fast. Before you can blink, his hand is on your throat and he's lifting you up off the ground, his fingers digging into your skin right over your racing pulse as he holds you at eye level. "Perhaps I'll keep you around even after I'm done with you. After all, I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle."
The memory sends a thrill of fear through your body.
You gasp, clawing at his arm, and Sylus tightens his grip on your throat with a click of his tongue. "Ah ah ah. No more of that, kitten. Not unless you want more punishment."
You force yourself to meet his gaze, refusing to look away even as he squeezes your throat and makes it hard to breathe. The lack of oxygen has you lightheaded, but the heat from his palm makes you even dizzier, a sick twisting against your core at the show of brute strength. You glare up at him, and you know he can see the fear and hatred and desire in your eyes, because he grins, a wicked smile full of fangs and blood and the promise of something far worse.
"But knowing you, perhaps that's what you're after?"
The shadows tighten and you cry out again, snarling as you try and use your Evol to free yourself. Burning through his arm, Sylus releases you with a hiss. You run for it, barely making it three steps backward before you’re tackled to the floor.
"There, there. No need to run from it, I know my nasty little brat enjoys this as much as I do. After all, you let me catch you, didn’t you?” He taunts, pressing his thigh between your legs. You're unable to stop yourself from grinding against him, whimpering as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. “And I intend to keep my side of the deal.”
Pinning you on your stomach, Sylus drags blades of energy down your dress, ripping the fabric to shreds as the silk flutters to the floor. The cold air stings against your sensitive flesh, and you whimper at the near painful difference between the cold and the heat of his touch.
"I'll kill you," you hiss, and Sylus laughs. He could kill you now, before you made good on your promise. And oh it would make everything so much easier, simpler - but he didn’t. Can’t. Instead he forces your jaw to the side before crashing his lips onto yours, fangs catching against the plush flesh. The angle has your neck screaming in protest, yet you swear it’s the dichotomy between the painful bruising of his grasp and the devotion of his lips that has you addicted.
So you kiss him back, more teeth and tongue and thoroughly fucking addicting. "You're mine to kill, I won’t let anyone else take that victory from me.”
“That’s it,” Sylus practically growls into your ear, his face flushed and a vein protruding in his neck. Then your ass is lifted up, effortlessly manhandled like a ragdoll as you hear the click of Sylus’ belt. ”Keep fighting it, kitten, make it fun. But just know your body is so, so honest with me.”
And then you can’t breathe - not because his large hand tightens around your neck, forcing your body to arch into the floor, but because Sylus was suddenly rutting his weeping, fat tip between your thighs. It catches your swollen clit, and you grind against empty air, gasping. Sylus' laugh is cruel, sliding the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing the sensitive skin. You shudder, the sensation of his cock dragging against your entrance enough to have you trembling. You're so close, and he's not even inside you yet.
"Aww, sweetheart. Are you scared? You're soaking." His words are mocking, and you try to bite back a moan as his hand leaves your waist, delivering a harsh slap against your ass instead. "Tell me, did that boy back in Linkon ever make you feel this good?"
"Fuck. You."
"Oh dear, did I hit a nerve?" He purrs, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your ass.
"Shut up, shut the fuck up-" Your words are cut short, a strangled sound tearing from your throat when the head of his cock catches your folds, the sheer girth of him unable to push in, sliding against your cunt as she practically drools over him.
Sylus curses against your neck, sitting back on his heels as he grabs his throbbing length, messily fucking your slick up and down, the heat and smell and feel of you enough to steal the rest of his sanity as he surrenders completely to the aphrodisiac. He’s bigger than usual, thicker and sensitive, and right when he thinks he might cum, Sylus forces his hand away. He can’t, not with you before him, it would be a waste.
A loud, broken moan escapes him as he tortures himself with a rough squeeze to his base, the sheer need overwhelming him as though he’d die should he not be inside you this very second.
In you. He needs to be in you, cum in you, fill you up and claim you in every way possible.
He’s about to try again when something warm squeezes around his base, nearly bringing him to his knees. Even though your shoulders were still pinned to the marble, you snuck one hand back to wrap around Sylus’ poor throbbing dick, your mere touch, barely able to circle around the girth of him, was enough to have him seeing white.
“You’re- ah- taking too long.” You whine at the sight of Sylus at your mercy, and squeeze tighter. His cock twitches, pre-cum leaking from his tip and dripping down your knuckles, and his eyes roll back into his head, drawing out a low, deep moan that practically vibrates through his chest.
“You’re right,” Sylus yanks your hips back, grinding against your ass as his free hand weaves between the two of you, rolling against your clit. “She’s getting too impatient, isn’t she?”
You can’t even hear your own screams, not over the obscene squelches your cunt makes over his dick and fingers. Sylus was using every ounce of remaining sanity to prove his point, unconsciously already bucking against you as he continued bullying your swollen nub until you gave in. All to make your ultimate surrender even sweeter. “I don’t mind spending the whole night fucking you into your place.”
He nearly roars in frustration as your cunt still refuses to take him, resisting each press of his hips. A pair of shadowy hands seize your ankles, yanking you backward and spreading your legs so wide that your hips nearly split. Your jaw falls open in a silent scream, thighs trembling as they���re practically pinned to your side, ass forced higher into the air as another set of tendrils come around to play with your swollen clit.
He’s cruel.
The longer it took, the thinner his restraint waned, and Sylus’ Evol surrounds the two of you in a web of darkness, cracking through the marble when your cunt finally yields to the pressure of his large, overbearing cock. As soon as he feels the flutter of your core against his tip, he knows he’s lost, the head of Sylus’ cock sliding into you with a lewd pop as you both gasp.
The stretch burns, your walls forced to part around the head of his cock as the swollen tip sinks inside, stretching you past what was natural. His fingers leave bloody trails on your waist, but the thought of the permanent marks only adds to the heat coursing through your veins. You're panting now, a broken mantra of fuck me and please and more spilling from your lips as the aphrodisiac takes complete control.
The feeling of your cunt suffocating his swollen head as Sylus’ control waning, and you use the moment of weakness to push your hips backward, forcing him in further. With each slow grind the underside of Sylus’ cock unintentionally bullies itself against your sweet spot again and again and again, that one fat vein pulsing against it in time to his erratic heartbeat.
Head lolling to the side, you catch a glimpse of where the two of you meet and nearly sob. He’s not even halfway in yet. The pressure has your mind spinning, and god you don’t think you can take any more.
But as you clench around him and Sylus makes up his mind, refusing to leave you a moment longer without being filled to the brink with his cum. And he forces you completely onto his cock.
A scream of his name is all you manage before your eyes roll back, arching off the ground as your entire body goes rigid. Forcing past any remaining resistance, Sylus thrusts his entire length deep inside of you, your lower stomach bulging ever so slightly, followed by a burst of pleasure so intense it hurts as you come undone, squirting over his cock and the floor.
Fucking you through your orgasm, he wraps one arm around your body, pulling you against him as your knees give in, refusing to give even an inch of space as the two of you buckle into the floor.
"You're going to regret not running faster." Sylus hisses. "I'm never letting you go. Never- ah fuck- again."
He pulls out slowly, until only the swollen head remains inside, and then slams forward again.
You try and claw your way out, unsure if you’re pushing closer or further, but the tendrils of energy around your legs only tighten their hold, forcing you back. The shadows seep into your flesh and leave trails of raw fire. You swear you feel him in your throat, and you know Sylus can feel it too. It's burning beneath your skin, a wild and desperate heat that feels like an inferno, a feeling so addicting it replaces the pain.
You're resonating with him. You’re finally resonating and Sylus only growing stronger- rougher- because of it.
“Sylus, fuck, just—” you scramble for something, anything, to grab onto, screaming out different curses and moans until Sylus folds you further into the ground, pressing his full weight atop of you.
“You’re too loud, sweetie, it’s almost like you want someone to find us.” He rests his forearm before you, allowing you to claw into it as you cry. “Here.” And with that you bite, digging your teeth into his arm hard enough to draw blood as your screams are muffled with the tinge of copper.
He laughs into your shoulder, leaning down as the new angle allows his tip to kiss your cervix. You sob, biting down again. “I want to mark you too,” and the way your skin breaks so, so easily under his fangs, marred with a permanent bloody print of him, has Sylus addicted.
So he bites again, lower this time, stands of bloody saliva connecting his lips to the dip of your spine. Fuck, he wants to mark you until there’s no question you’re taken, ruined, again and again and again.
You don’t think he realizes he’s saying it out loud, a desperate mantra broken only by the wet sucking and biting of his lips.
Sylus moans, hips stuttering as he comes with a shout, his sudden orgasm ripping through every muscle as he feels that corrupting heat relent with every thick rope of cum he paints inside your weeping cunt. He doesn't pull out, can't bear the thought of parting from your tight heat.
You whimper into his arm, biting again, feeling the warmth of his cum overflowing into you, squirting out as it drips down your thighs, still going and going as Sylus fucks himself through it, not stopping even as a creamy ring began forming at the base of his cock.
Sylus expected the aphrodisiac to be absolved, waiting for the furious need, the soreness in his balls and the primal drive at the base of his brain to lessen, only to realize he felt no better.
More. More, he still needs more.
But so do you. And hell, you're so close, enough that you abandon your pride, crying for him over the gag that was his forearm, and beg.
“Again,” Sylus growls. The sound rumbles deep within his chest, low and dangerous, and he can feel your pulse quicken, can hear the rush of blood through your veins. He can feel your Evol burning beneath your skin, the power seeping from your body in waves, and he can feel his own power responding.
The shadows grow. They writhe and pulse and spread, wrapping around the both of you and covering the room, turning the world pitch black. Caging you in.
“Go on, no need to hold back now, sweetie.” Another ruthless thrust, and your jaw goes slack as he hits your cervix, deep enough that if he pushed any further you’re certain he’d breach your womb, heartbeat pulsing through your body like you were made for him. “Beg for it.”
You want to fight it. You want to say no, to struggle and bite and scratch. But the aphrodisiac has taken full control, and gods knew how long you’ve been losing the fight against Sylus even before this.
“Syl—“ His hips still. A warning. You fight to make any coherent thought amidst your unraveling, correcting yourself as you slur his title in sheer desperation, “Sir. Sir, please, let me come. You got to come, so help me!” your voice is hardly more than a broken gasp now, ”Please.”
Another tendril wraps around your front, pressing on the bulge through your stomach in time to every rough, wet, thrust, the double pressure enough to have you coming with a sob, wrecked from pleasure and pain as you tighten around his cock, almost begging to be filled more.
“Sir? I could get used to that.” Sylus barely even slows, continuing to use your trembling body as he drags himself in and out, the warm mixture of your cum forming a puddle beneath you as he watches in fascination, still consumed by the primal urge to get you full of him.
But now the aphrodisiac has loosened its grip on you, fulfilled desire replaced with sharp overstimulation as you sob into the marble, feeling every ram of Sylus’ hips smack into your swollen clit with a wet kiss. Not that he particularly cares. He knows your limit, and you’re not there yet.
“Relax. You can handle it.” Sylus laughs, grinding himself in deeper as he licks a stripe of blood and sweat up your neck. He pats your cheek condescendingly, forcing your face to the side as he scans your fucked-out expression with a wolfish smile. ”But should you have the audacity to die on me, I’ll simply bring you back just to use you again.”
Flipping you around with just an arm so you finally face him, Sylus brings your knee to your chest, the other hand forcing your jaw up so he could hear your unintelligible pleas properly.
“What? Can’t talk anymore?” He coos, relishing in the way your nails rake furiously down his back in reply- in warning. “Aw, is my baby drunk on my cock already? Should I stop?”
Not that Sylus could even fathom stopping now, not as he feels his cock bully the cum out of your poor overfilled pussy with each thrust. It drips down your legs and onto his tense balls as he fucks you like an animal, over and over and- And shit it wasn’t enough. It’ll never be enough.
You shake your head, sobbing.
“No–” you cry, breath coming in gasps as Sylus pulls himself up onto his knees, forcing you upright as you splay out so easily on his lap, gravity now doing most of the work as you swear you feel him hit deeper than before. “Ah, too much!”
“One moment it’s too little, and the next too much. You should try and make up your mind, sweetheart.” One hand squishes your cheeks together and forces you to look down at the way your poor pussy was bulging around Sylus’ cock. Your bodies are both drenched in a sinful mixture of blood and sweat and cum, sheer exhaustion slowing the both of you down as every slow, deep thrust is now accentuated with a filthy wet slap. “Mmmh I was foolish to let you run from me f’so long, not when you look so perfect like this.”
Sylus’ fangs graze your ear, abs tensing underneath your nails as he fucks up into you without any sort of rythm. Sharp, slow jabs of his hips, meeting each one as he palms at your swollen belly. “Can’t wait till you’re fucked full, right sweetie?”
He doesn’t wait for a response - not that he could hear one anyways, eyes blown out as they focus on your gorgeous body utterly surrendered to him, limp against his chest as he splays his fingers over your womb. “You wanna be filled? Wanna give me an heir for Onychinus?”
God, the very thought makes your head spin. “Please,” you whine, beginning to resonate with him once more as you arch violently into his chest. “More, I need more, please- fuck- don’t you dare s-stop.”
“Linkon’s righteous guardian and the White Wolf.” You don’t even realize it, but you’ve begun to match his thrusts, grinding down in his lap to meet his ruthless cadence. “We’d be unstoppable. You want that? Tell me-” his pleas break into a low moan, words slurred together as he pulls you closer, ramming you up and down as you can do nothing more than dig bloody lines down his enormous shoulders and chest. “Tell me you want it, need it- hah- tell me you’ll choose me.”
His cockhead rams against your bruised g-spot with each word, even when his voice breaks into senseless groans as he falls prey to your pretty little cunt trying to suck him in further and further still. And right as you feel yourself slipping, you pull him into a messy kiss - if it can even be called that, just a frenzied, messy drag of his lips against your open mouth, licking and sucking at your teeth.
“I can never escape you.”
You don’t know who cums first- you only feel the heat surge in the base of your throat, heartbeat thumping erratically against your ears and cunt, falling into Sylus’ chest as the warmth takes you. Warm, everything is warm, burning up even without the aphrodisiac as you feel rope after rope of his seed paint the inside of your walls white, excess drooling out of your sensitive folds.
Every ragged breath comes out in a mist against your ears, Sylus’ hair damp and stuck to his forehead and your own as he fights to control his breathing. His eyes are still locked where the two of you connect, fingers releasing your waist to try and shove his cum back inside.
You hiss at the contact, trying to squirm away as you fall backwards, taking Sylus with you as your back hits the drenched marble. “Let go of me.”
Sylus raises a brow, lips curling over his teeth. “I’m not the one who's trapping us together.” He taps your legs still wrapped around his waist, and immediately you relax, shivering as you feel Sylus’ cock finally slide out of you.
Even after all that you feel the lingering effects of the toxin bubble under your skin. Sated, for now, but far from gone. Hell, you think you might die if you have to go through that again.
“We need to get to a hospital,” you say, refusing to meet Sylus’ eyes as you try to stand. Only for your knees to immediately buckle.
Luckily, Sylus is there to catch you, pulling you into his arms before scooping you up to his chest. “Firstly, there is no hospital in the N109 Zone nor Linkon City that would admit me.” He stands with frustrating ease as the misty tendrils of his Evol cover your bare body like a second skin. “Secondly, we’re not exactly in a state where they wouldn’t begin asking questions, don’t you agree, kitten?”
You all but hiss at him, only making the man laugh harder until he winces, staggering slightly as you feel his skin grow hot again. It’s clear Sylus isn’t completely freed from the aphrodisiac either, the sheer volume the two of you must have breathed in during the initial attack far past the mortal limit.
Not a hospital, fine. A doctor then.
“I know a place.” You whisper, and Sylus narrows his eyes. “He won’t ask questions, and we’re already running out of time. Who knows how long the effects will last, and if anyone will know how to actually cure this it’ll be him.”
“And I’m supposed to trust you, sweetie?”
You laugh, curt and humorless. “You don’t have a choice.”
Sylus goes quiet, but you can hear the argument raging in his head, brows furrowed as he scowls at open air. Another shiver rakes through your body, and you unconsciously press yourself closer, already dreading what will happen when the aphrodisiac comes back full force.
But the sight of you, trembling and utterly vulnerable in his arms tugs at something forgotten, and Sylus relents.
“Very well, tell me where to go.”
#love and deepspace#l&ds sylus#sylus smut#sylus x reader#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lnds smut#lnds x reader#lnds zayne#zayne x reader#l&ds smut#l&ds x reader#love and deepspace smut#zayne smut#poisonwrites
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bestowing my highest honor as an artist to ffxv (drawing the characters in fun outfits)
thoughts under the cut
RREAAAGHHHH SO EXCITED TO BE DONE WITH THIS!!!!! it took me forevarrrr but i soldiered through as an act of love. now excuse me. yap time
OKAY SO the concept behind this was originally specific fashion subcultures for everyone!l ike noct emo ignis dark academia etc. but then decided i didnt want to pigeonhole it all and just freestyled outfits i thought would look nice on everyone
noct - i do think noct would still be emo-ish but also opt for comfy baggy stuff a lot. something you could just fall asleep in on the spot. note the details of bass pro shop shirt (of course) XV necklace, little moon + stars accents, carbuncle + fish keychains. i also wanted his metal band logo shirt to spell LUCIS but i forgor some letters but its not very readable anyways
ignis - ignit ooohghh ignos ignaurs. sorry i made him serve so much cunt it will happen again. i drew him first cause that kind of inspired this whole thing i love him so bad if i didnt draw it id explode. not much detail to note except his collar pins are like his double blade thingies
luna - lunaaa the concept was “clean girl aesthetic” idk if that happened but im actually really happy with how it came out! might be my favorite of the bunch just because she looks so pretty and happy. your honor she should have been able to just be a normal girl and just. chill
prompto - prompotoooo i had trouble picking his vibe!!! my first thought was techwear?? because weeheeeehee he loves tech and well... you know... but then i realized i didnt really like the look of anything i saw + it was so bulky and dark and serious for him! ending up going with some more youthful and baggy. i was considering something more loud and colorful but ended up not going with it. i feel like in canon he'd be too nervous to have such a flashy fit and would want to just look "cool" to fit in with the boys lol. itty bitty details here - chocobo keychain, pompompurin and bi miku buttons, and his lanyard is kings knight themed! i also thought it was funny to write LUCIS on his shirt like you know those shirts that just say BROOKLYN or TOKYO or SAN FRANCISCO and thats it. thats what its like
gladio - okay i know this is going to sound like a lie but im not horny for gladio like at all, hes my least favorite, i think he's just alright. but also i KNOW in my heart of hearts that he would LOVE being a leather daddy and so i had to make it happen. main detail to note here is that his tank top has the motifs of a cup noodle! i didnt know what else to add cause you know.. hes the cup noodle guy.. but also i didnt want it to be so in your face about it with a big as logo so kept it subtle!
(side note the leather daddy gave me an idea for a post where its like noct and prom go to a gay bar all nervous but then they run into gladio and its like "p: GLADIO YOURE GAY?" "n: nevermind that PLEASE dont tell ignis we snuck out" and then ignis walks up and theyre all like WHAT THE FUCK!!!! caption would be "the gang finds out theyre all bisexual." probably wont draw it but i think its very funny lol)
iris - iris my sweetheart.... definitely leaned into the scene vibes here and also that one image of the blonde emo anime girl. details here - of course the moogle big ass backpack and keychain (can you tell i love keychains), but also her buttons are an iris (the flower) and also a crown with hearts (haha symbolism)
anyways oh god i didnt mean to write an essay down here. usually i keep this in the tags but this time i just had Too Much To Say. can you tell i put a lot of thought and love into this . anwyays. *walks off into the sunset and fuckig dies*
#ffxv#final fantasy xv#ff15#final fantasy 15#noctis lucis caelum#ignis scientia#lunafreya nox fleuret#prompto argentum#gladiolus amicitia#iris amicitia#koob art#digital art#procreate#illustration
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Could you possibly do a story where Tara and Y/N get caught in the middle of fucking by Sam??
(Can be Tara x Fem!Reader, Gp!Tara x Fem!Reader, or Tara x Gp!Reader.)
my sister!?
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x GP!Reader
Summary: request!! ^^
Words: 4k
Warnings/tags: immediate smut, pretend the carpenters have a house and not a shared apartment in new york, protective sam carpenter!!!!!, no ghostface au
a/n: writers block is KILLING me, feelin like i cant write shit
masterlist.
An innocent study night with Tara was impossible.
"Tara—Tara, oh f-fuck, you're taking me so well..."
The sight of Tara beneath you should be a sin of its own; tears stinging her eyes locked on yours with mascara running down her cheeks, her soft, abused lipstick-stained lips parting for pathetic notes of moans and whimpers. Strands of hair lay in a mess on her mattress you relentlessly ruined her on every night she asked of you to.
Every sound she made drove you to closer to insanity, knowing you could worship her everyday for every sin you committed since meeting her. The way her body responded to the slightest thrust was intoxicating, addicting—so fucking addicting. Her fingers clutched on her sheets as if they could help her, knuckles turning white.
Tara's eyes fluttered open after rolling back in pure ecstasy, letting out soft moans with your cock fitting so right and full inside of her. She was barely holding out on her own, you were just so fucking hot and sexy like this, who could blame her?
"More," she cried, voice trembling while she wrapped her arms around your neck to bring you closer, "Please—Fuck! Y/n, y/n, please I—"
She moaned your name as if it was a prayer, her voice alone making your knees weak. Her body arched into yours, seeking more—always for more. Even with your hands steady on her hips, she moved with a mind of her own in her cock-drunk state.
Your grip on her waist tightened, fingers almost bruising her perfect, soft skin as you buried yourself deeper inside her. Her name fell shamelessly from your lips as you felt an aching knot forming in your stomach.
"Tara—I'm so... fuck, m' so close..." you breathed, pupils blown out as you locked eyes with her. Her eyes, everything about her was desperate, fuck, you both were.
Tara—breathless and spent from being so stretched—nodded frantically, her lips pathetically opening and closing almost immediately as if she could say anything other than your name and soft moans.
"Close.. close, too." She gulped, breath hitching, eyes rolling to the back of her head, feeling every inch of you so deliciously deep inside of her. "Fuck, don't stop!"
You were so close, so close to feeling Tara's walls clenching against you that could make every sense in your body go dumb fucking weak and numb, your name dangerously on the tip of her tongue while she goes onto levels higher than cloud 9 as you help her ride out her orgasm.
Close, Tara's so close, so close, fuck, fuck fuck—
When you came, Tara came down hard. Her figure perfectly arched as you rocked your hips back and forth inside of her, the both of you falling into silent moans and hot breaths.
"Tara... are you alright? Shit, Tara, you feel so goo..."
A door opened.
"What the fuck."
Sam. Carpenter. Standing.
You. Tara. On. Bed.
Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter. Carpenters.
You. Not Carpenter. Definitely not after today.
Sisters. Right-
FUCK.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How batshit, totally and flat out embarrassing it would be to be caught having rough sex with your girlfriend in the middle of the night at her house when you're supposed to be studying?
No, it would be fine, very fine actually if it was one of the gang. Hell, you'd take Mindy or Chad any day opening the door to see you and Tara fucking around. You'd live with it and wear it like a fucking badge of honor.
If it wasn't her damn sister.
Sam already despised you for being Tara's girlfriend! You couldn't even hold her close for more than thirty seconds without Sam threatening to grab a hammer and bash your skull in.
What's even worse than that is how she led you both down stairs after awkwardly cleaning up and she's now pacing back and forth in front of the couch Sam pushed you on.
"Sam, you're being overdramatic, we're not those sex-obsessed teens that need counseling." Tara, arms crossed with an adorable pout (you'd defend that pout to your last breath), tackled before her sister could even say anything. "I'm 21 for fucks sake!"
"Oh, Tara, don't even get me started—You literally just turned into the legal drinking age two fucking weeks ago!" Sam stopped in her tracks, pointing at Tara with probably the most killer eyes a killer would kill.
"So—!?"
Sam cut her off before Tara could even say anything, her gaze now directed towards you. "And you," oh shit, you were in for it, "My sister!? That's very low of you, Y/n—"
"Oh, y/n was definitely going low on—"
"Yup, okay, no, stop—Tara." You quickly covered Tara's mouth with your hand before she could further damage your already very rocky relationship with Sam. Come on, you still wanted to be invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas!
"Sam." You took a deep breath, "I am truly sorry for… uhm… doing that. I know that you're being protective and I too would hang myself if I ever hurt Tara in anyway—"
"Mostly sexually." Tara chimed in the background, a shit-eating smirk on her face.
Sam tilted her head like some kind of horror movie scare, "Do you wanna explain what the fuck I just heard from my younger sister, y/n?"
"No, no! I haven't hurt Tara in that way, I swear—!"
"Probably because it felt so good."
You turned to Tara, face twisted for dear life, "Tara do you want my ass kicked or not!?"
Sadly for your long-lived lifespan, Sam was already towering over you.
"It was an accident, I promise, and I—!"
"So you just accidentally slipped and magically ended up being inside my sister for hours?"
Okay, maybe suicide really is the better option. How the fuck do you even respond to that!?
"I—" Fuck, shit, fuck, dick, how do you breathe!? "Well, I... I wouldn't phrase it like that—"
"You know the walls are thin?"
"Y..yes, I'm very sure and—"
"The whole damn house was barely holding up, I thought a fucking 9.8 magnitude earthquake started when I opened the door!"
"We... We are so sorry—"
"And you're also sure that I'd eventually slit your throat in half?"
"Sam, please, I really am s—"
"You know I have a fucking taser in my pocket? The only reason that's restraining me from using it because Tara's sees you as someone alright."
"...Uhm, sweet, but Sam—"
You would thank the heavens for such an assertive and a somehow kind of rebellious to her sisters wishes girlfriend by how Tara stood up so abruptly that a very poor and sad excuse of an excuse in your mind went away.
"You want an apology, Sam?" She tilted her head as she stepped forward, "I'll give you a fucking apology." You know, for a 5 foot nothing girl, she can definitely throw hands. Or words.
"We... are sorry. Actually, Y/n's—"
"Oh my god." You whined in the background.
"Y/n's very sorry for fucking—"
"Okay, no, stop." You interrupted immediately. Why the term!? Infront of her sister!?
"Having sex—!"
"No."
"Intercourse—!"
"No."
"Having... Having coitus—!"
"No, why the hell would you use that!?"
"Making love!"
"Best you could do."
"Y/n's very sorry for being so damn good making love to me in bed, making my mattress squeak louder than a fucking banshee with her cock ramming and giving me multiple orgasms that Danny can't even—!"
"Alllright, I'm stopping you before you get legally disowned at the age of 21" You grabbed Tara by her arms and lifted her up before your entire sex life with her comes tumbling down on your girlfriends sister.
The room was silent. Almost too silent, you swear you could go deaf if more than a second even passes by. Not even a rolling surge of tumbleweed could make it seem less awkward than it is. Even your dignity left.
That was until you heard Sam taking a deep breath.
Before you knew it, you were kicked out of the house with Tara's voice behind you literally defending by describing, in horrific detail, how good you were in bed until Sam shut her up.
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The walk home was and felt downright shameful, even the traffic lights refused to turn green for you. It's like you have a bindle attached to your palms to forever ingrain the memory of Sam's face while you were literally inches deep in Tara.
You crash into your apartment a minute later after fiddling with your keys, not even bothering to take off your coat. You just collapse onto the atleast comfortable carpet floor and let the mites decompose your entire body.
But not even god himself can let you mellow in your own embarrassment, sadness, awkwardness—literally all of the above—without your phone ringing at one of the worst times in your life. Soon you'll hope it'll be seven trumpets.
You blinked from your spot on the floor. It was too good and too much effort to even sit up properly and take the call.
With a soft groan, you roll over like a ragdoll, fumbling for your phone deep in your pockets. You were ready to decline right there and there, or maybe be a dick and answer just to hang up a second later after swearing at them.
Until you saw the name Tara Carpenter with a heart emoji beside it.
Of course, against your better judgment, you answer. How could you not?
"Can you come over?"
Tara's soft voice whispers over the phone, you can almost picture her twisting and turning on her bed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.
You sigh heavily, managing to croak out a response, "Tara... you know I can't—"
"Please?"
You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest. She's using that voice that you're so sure could lead to you prison. You're just so glad you're not there in person to see her beautiful brown doe eyes.
You stand up abruptly, clearing your throat. "It's only been 30 minutes since Sam caught us and practically banished me from your home. How am I supposed to—"
"It’s like you’ve never snuck out before!"
"This time it’s serious, Tara! Pretty sure Sam literally hates my guts by now."
There's a pause that interrupts your thoughts, the line going completely silent, wondering if Tara got so irritated she actually hung up on you.
"...Tara?"
"I have windows." She responds, as if she's snapping her two fingers together, "You can sneak in through one."
You smiled. Of course she'd think of this now when all the times you've "snuck" in was through their door (surprisingly, it always worked in the middle of the night.)
"Thought Sam nailed them shut after hearing about a loose serial killer?"
"Found out it’s bullshit, just some teenagers having the trip to scare people for fun. Just—Please."
You roll your eyes, "Okay, well, I'm not going to risk my life—"
"You already are, I can hear you over the phone packing your shit."
Oh, how this girl knows you so well.
You zip up your bag while having your phone pinched between your ear and shoulder, "Yeah, see you in a bit."
The brunette chuckles over your words, you could already see her standing up and opening her window from the sounds you hear. Heavenly.
"Damn, you love me."
"Horribly. Say it back?"
"I will when you get here. Hurry, please."
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It took a long while to reach the Carpenters' house and even longer to actually go up to Tara's window. Climbing a nearby tree and swinging over like Tarzan was a real pain in the ass.
When you finally reach her window, you see Tara lying on her bed, headphones blaring so loudly you can hear the music from outside, plus she's wearing an oversized graphic tee that you're pretty sure is yours.
"Tara!" you call out, knocking on the side of the wall, your shoes gripping the bricks as you wait for her to notice your figure clinging onto a roof for dear life just outside.
Tara doesn't hear you at first, courtesy of the headphones you bought her for her 18th birthday. You knocked a bit louder, but not too loud Sam suspects something.
You have half a mind to just go in unannounced when Tara finally looks up and immediately rushes over your side.
"You know, it's actually harsh to keep a girl wai—"
You were wrapped between her arms before you could even finish.
Tara's lips met yours in a way you melt instantly beneath her breathless, parting her lips and tilting her head to give herself better access inside of you.
She's soft in your arms, yet so eager by how she's gripping the collar of your shirt and pulling you as if you could be any more entwined.
"You kept me waiting." She breaks only to whisper, words coming in a rasp with her breath hot on your lips as she draws you in for more of her.
You're dizzy, hazed, intoxicated, completely fucked by how her tongue presses on yours so painfully heavenly and her teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. You could stumble around your words if she let you to speak. Your hands could go nowhere but on their perfect place on her waist.
Her fingers trail against your skin, tangling within the strands of hair only to pull you more closer to her, forcing your head to tilt at an angle that could make her invade all the right places inside of you.
You sigh in her mouth before regrettably pushing her away, "You wanted to see me?"
Tara's lips curve as she she presses herself against you, her hands traveling from your chest to your face, brushing her fingers gently against your cheek. The mere motion sending cold shivers down your spine that reminds you of your cock slowly growing beneath layers of fabric.
"Fuck that, I needed you." She murmurs, your heart running faster than the way her breathing goes after making out with you. Her hands seemingly wanting nothing more than to roam over your body, tracing all the way down to palm your growing erection underneath your shorts.
A low groan escaped your lips, yours hands finding their way down to softly cup the curve of her ass. "Tara please, don't..."
"Hm," she hums softly, brown eyes filled with nothing but lost gazing directly at your own, "You know I can't resist you, especially when I have you like this," Her voice is teasing. Tantalizing, even, marked with an innocent smile on her face as if she's not an inch away of giving you a handjob.
A chaste peck on your lips was enough for you to spiral and your dick to throb from its clothed prison, her fingers tracing lazy circles around your cock until she stopped at the dip of the waistbands of your shorts.
"You wanna fuck me first, or should I take the lead?"
Your mind raced, cock twitching from her voice alone, words spent while your breathing was anything but calm, pupils blown out and dilated as you looked at the brunette. But there's only one answer that she needed from you.
Without a word, your hands slid under her thighs, effortlessly lifting her up from the floor and straddling her figure down to her ass at your arms, earning a startled hum from the girl.
Her arms went around your neck, one hand trailing from your nape to the strands of your hair, pulling your head closer to her, meeting your lips in an immediate kiss that had Tara moaning and desperately bucking her hips.
You carried her to bed with her legs wrapped tightly around your waist while her hands lingered on your neck, fingers delicately tracing your jawline while she ravished your mouth alone.
Tara was sloppy with you, kisses so wet and desperate, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. She was filthy by how she gazed at you with eyes as if she was innocent, how she let her fingers roam your body in all the right places that had your dick leaking.
With a soft groan, you laid her down on the bed, your hands moving to grip her hips as she continued to explore your mouth, not once did she pull away. Not even to spare a breath.
But, you surrendered to her, pulling her away with a string of saliva connecting your lips together.
Fuck, she looked divine.
A sight you always saw in the middle of the night, yet not even the light could take you away from her. Lips stained with mixed saliva from the both of you. Even with your own inches away, her lips stay parted as she pants for air.
It took you a while before you even noticed Tara and you were completely naked, the small girl revealing to be wearing nothing the whole time you were there.
"Shit, Tara. You were wearing nothing but my shirt?" You rasped, breathing heavily while you placed your arms in between her head to push yourself up.
She smiled, chuckled even as she looked at you, hands traveling from your neck down to your chest, "You know I love putting on a show for you, baby." She winked as her fingers ghosted over your nipples, touch so warm and delicate before sliding lower, tracing the lines of your abs. "Fuck, you're so hot like this."
You shivered underneath her touch, even forgetting you were the one who brought her to such a state, yet you were the one who looked pathetic. Whining and completely whimpering on top of her.
You swallow hard, trying to maintain even the slightest bit of dignity and control. "Tara," you whisper, "You're driving me crazy."
She giggles softly, "Good," she murmurs before grasping your wrist and guiding your hand to the waistband of your shorts. "That's exactly what I want to do. Just fuck me, please."
You couldn't hold back any longer as you pulled down your shorts, boxers sliding down your waist as your aching cock springing out, slapping against your chest while it stood tall and hard for seven inches.
Your hand slipped between your bodies to grasp the throbbing length, tip dripping with pre-cum as your thumb grazed over the slit. "Wanna see how good you take me, Tara." You wrapped your fingers around your cock, stroking it up and down as you guided it along her slick folds. "Fuck, you're soaked."
"Stop… Stop teasing, please, oH GOD!"
Tara's hands frantically had a tight grip on your shoulders as you shoved every inch of you inside of her, breath erratic as she tried to suppress every moan down in her throat, her back arching off the bed as you penetrated her so deep
The intense stretch made her eyes flutter open, rolling into the back of head, letting out tears from the pain as her toes curled in pleasure.
You weren't holding up either, she took you so well, her red velvety and slick walls tightening around your cock drove you into a haze. Her nails leaving red marks in their wake on your back, the atmosphere filled with the sounds of skin against skin, gasps and moans of pleasure from Tara increasingly getting louder.
"F-fuck… Oh, fuck!" She gasped, moving her hips to the rhythm of her trusts as you grabbed both of her legs and pulled her closer to you, "Yeah.. Yeah, right there baby!"
All you could think about were her soft moans, face crying from a mixture of pain and pleasure from being stuffed to the brim, keeping a steady pace that had her a moaning mess on your hands.
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You know, Sam always had weird dreams. Weirder than the next, gory than anything from the amount of horror movies she watched along with her younger sister, Tara.
Anything you could do to Sam, she would barely give one or two fucks. Scary movie? More of a boring sit-com that tries to give characters motive and plot some development. Jumpscare her? Reality or movies, either way, you're getting a jumpscare yourself by a hospital bill after she's done with you.
She fears nothing. Except when she woke up just now, hearing her younger sisters voice down the hallway from her room.
Oh my fucking, GOD.
She hopes it'll be a dream, she'd take anything but this. Ever since Tara got a girlfriend, you were nothing but a pain in the ass for her. I mean, she trusts you, sure, but not that enough.
The older Carpenter gets up almost immediately, eyebrows furrowed while her heart heaved with anger. And most probably wrath, and an apology to Tara if she ever found out that her girlfriend was bashed on the skull by her sister.
Every walk she made, the noises got louder yet softer. By the time she was at her door, the noises dropped. Was it all a dream? A nightmare maybe? She'd take that any day.
"Tara!" She yelled out as she took notice of the light illuminating on the creaks of her room., softly knocking on her door. Even if you were there, it's still a 50/50 chance that Tara's actually sleeping. Or sleepwalking even.
She waits for a second.
Then two.
Three.
Four—Okay, no, she's opening the damn door.
She turns the doorknob and immediately bursts into the room. Her eyes scanning the space for any signs of you.
There doesn't seem to be anything.
Her eyes immediately spotted Tara. Or maybe half of her peeking out of the soft blanket with a pillow in between her legs. The only thing that seemed out of place was her window open.
She was about to move a lazy strand of hair away from her face, her hand was already hovering over her body. That was until Tara moved on her own. Murmuring something about some TV show. Or a cinema date, whatever it is that involved your godforsaken name.
"Thank God, that scared me." Sam whispered to herself before going over to Tara's bed, eyes still wandering over Tara's sleeping (?) face before standing up and leaving the room.
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You popped out of the blanket that was covering both you and Tara after giving her one of the best orgasms she's ever had. But the heart attack you both experienced when you heard Sam's footsteps was not fucking it!
A tense breath escapes your lips, relief flooding through you as you look at Tara, post-orgasm. Her eyes are dazed, a silly smile adorning her face.
"Tara, seriously, do you never lock your doors?" you whisper to her, arms sliding on her back to flip the both of you over. Your hands cupping her cheeks, trailing her jawline while you tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.
Tara's laughter rings out softly in the quiet, her cheeks flushed with her chest heaving. There was always something you loved about her smile, her laugh. Sure it was because it was like a taste of heaven as some pathetic human, but… Dimples. Dim-fucking-ples.
She rolls her eyes, letting her head fall on your collarbone. "I have Sam Carpenter in my bloodline, it's pointless."
"Don't be so hard on her." You stroke her hair gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "She's just looking out for you," you remind her, tone soft with understanding.
She sighs against your skin. "She's overdoing it. Like, I can throw a punch. Did you not see the fight I pulled with that dick from a party in the middle of nowhere may I remind you? I could've sworn Mindy sent the video to you!"
"Yeah Tara, but you're also an A24 chick who could memorize the full script of The Babadook, I love you for it baby." You laughed. "But Sam is just looking out for you. Especially me, I literally just fucked her sister in her house."
Tara looks up at you. Batting her eyelashes and smirking while she tilted her head, planting a chaste kiss near your lips, but not near enough you could taste her. "And you fucked her so well."
"We are not having another round, Tara."
"You know me so well it's fucking irritating. Can you just not?" She scoffs, but only playfully.
"But you actually should lock them, it's a safety hazard."
"Mhm, and you should let me ride you." She turns to the side, falling over your body, her hands tracing the soft dips and your toned abs.
"After that heart attack? No, Tara."
"Yeah?" She cocked her head, "Then why not give me more reasons why you're still hard."
"Oh..." You looked down. Fuck, you are. "Oh, fuck you."
"I'm hoping you will."
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before turning to her side, "By the way, you never said the thing."
She wrapped her arms around your body as you faced her. "Oh, what thing this time, baby?"
You sigh.
"I love you."
Tara laughs. She knew what you wanted.
"I love you too."
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a/n: im back!
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x female reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x gpreader#tara carpenter x gp!reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega x female reader
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You're All I Want [Week Two] || MINORS DNI
Summary: No one really seems to fit your standards, your roommate, Chuuya, proves otherwise.
Tags: Chuuya Nakahara/Reader, Female reader, 3.5k Words, Jealous Chuuya, Cunnilingus, Pussy Worship, Overstimulation, Spitting, Cum Eating, Chuuya Comes In His Pants, Petnames (Pretty Girl, Dollface, Sweetheart, etc.), He Should Be The Standard Tbh, Wyd If Your Man Isn’t A 5’3” Ginger Mafia Executive, Perhaps I Projected Slightly Since It’s My Birthday In Two Days And This Is My Gift To Me, Mwah.
Sinners: @pe4rl-diver , @sakui1 , @mxya-dreams , @runs-withscissors , @writingandmusing , @mairia-chan , @dearestwitchtrials
Becoming a mafia executive’s roommate was not on your to-do list, yet here you were— from moving what was left of your belongings into a large empty room to finally redecorating the minimalist aesthetic your roommate’s apartment seemed to take on with him barely being there already due to his occupation. You seemed to fill a space in Chuuya’s life that he didn’t know he was missing.
Now there wasn’t a day he didn’t come home late into the night and not expect you to be up and about doing your own activities, acting as if you were some nocturnal deviant that haunts the night with random shenanigans. He can’t count how many times he’s walked in to find you nursing one of his cheaper bottles of wine and cooking or baking something that you just happened to find while scrolling through social media, offering him some in return with an awkward grin to avoid his wrath for finishing nearly half his bottle. Of course, he was always too tired to fight you on the matter from the day and would take the rest of the bottle for himself before sitting at the island counter to wait for you to finish with whatever you were making.
Or the amount of times you bought something new to add on to the decorations in your apartment, showing it off proudly to Chuuya as you placed it next to the tons of other random vintage-looking trinkets and paintings you got in the past. Though he never complained much because how could he argue about how busy the decorating looked when he was barely there to look at it in the first place?
And when he got the day off, you were there with him most often, binging movie series or begging to go shopping with him because you couldn’t help but marvel at the small stationary sections they had in the stores he frequented. He rolls his eyes and scoffs every time with a snarky, yet harmless comment to make about your buying habits— wondering when you’d ever need a dog themed wine opener, only to realize weeks later that he had been using it every time he opened a new bottle and that you payed close attention to his likes and dislikes. It made him feel a little bit better about allowing you to be his roommate at all, not sure how it would go with how you were when you first met.
He never once thought he’d experience having a woman come up to him while was in the middle of fighting at least five opposing gang members to ask him for directions to the nearest convenience shop. Of course, he almost didn’t have that chance to advance any further with you as he had with the onslaught of bullets that came your way, but with his ability and quick reflexes, he pulled you out of the way to take cover behind a car, chastising you on your social awareness— or lack thereof. Your reasoning behind approaching him out of everyone else in the area was beyond him, and you admit that you don’t even know why yourself, seemingly finding that you were just naturally drawn to him. And he did eventually get you to that convenience store that you were asking about.
How you ended up being roommates? Chuuya likes to blame the fact that he was partly raised by Kouyou to be a gentleman for his choice of offering you a place in his apartment after you met him once more weeks later at a bar, whining about the flooding in your apartment complex that had everyone looking for a new place to live, including yourself. He’d never seen you look so flustered and timid, trying to back track and stumble over how it really wasn’t a big deal and how you were just going to couch surf with one of your friends until you found somewhere else to stay.
If there was something that Chuuya was, it was stubborn, but he learned that night that you were too— going back and forth for nearly an hour with each other until you were immediately persuaded with the promise of him taking you out to ice cream after getting you sobered up and back to your place to collect what was left of your items.
You settled in quickly and easily, your presence becoming one that Chuuya couldn’t ignore if missing.
Which is why he was so put off by your absence one night when he came home to find everything in dead silence with all the lights and TV shut off. It almost felt… empty, and it caught Chuuya off-guard. Maybe you went to bed early for once? But usually when that happened, you always— always left the TV on while you slept away on the couch, curled up cutely beneath one of his expensive throw-blankets. There was the chance that you weren’t feeling well and decided to sleep in your room for once, but after quietly shuffling over to your room and peeking in, your bed was empty— sheets strewn about and your multitude of pillows bunched around your sleeping spot.
Then he thought there was always the possibility that you got one of your random cravings for a specific junk food and went down to the small convenience shop down the road to buy it. But he knows that you always drag him along no matter how tired you both are or how long you have to wait for him to get home because you feel safer with him.
Pacing back into his room, he takes off his hat and gloves, hands sweaty as he takes out his phone. On one hand, he doesn’t understand why his nerves are acting up because you were probably fine— you had other friends— maybe you’re with them. But there’s still that small thought in the back of his mind that there may be something wrong and he knows it’s definitely because of everything that he’s dealt with in the mafia, including watching nearly everyone he’s ever cared about die. He clicks on your name and sends you a text asking where you are, and if you didn’t answer in five minutes, he’d try to call, and then possibly even go looking for you— but you answer almost immediately and he lets out a soft, relieved sigh that he didn’t even realize he was holding in.
“Didn’t you see my note on the fridge? Aww. You miss me that much (^v^)?” As he read your message, he could hear your voice clear in his mind, a small huff leaving his nose as he does. Finally being able to relax, he makes his way into the kitchen and turns the light on to see a yellow sticky note plastered to the fridge with your writing in pink glittery ink. “Won’t be home till super late, on a date. Made udon earlier, leftovers in the fridge.”
Letting the information settle in, he only focuses on the first sentences of your note, a blank look on his face as he re-reads it at least three more times.
A date? He didn’t realize you were even interested in that stuff, or maybe he just assumed you weren’t because he wasn’t interested in it due to focusing on the mafia. At least until now. He doesn’t understand the irritation that eats at him at the thought of you spending your free time with some guy that doesn’t know you at all, probably more interested in the thought of what’s beneath your clothes than anything else. But that’s not his business, so he shouldn’t have a say in it. He wasn’t a controlling person— outside of the mafia at least— he thinks. So why does he feel like he deserves to put any of his two cents in on you going out and enjoying yourself?
He’s barely able to sleep with these thoughts running through his head, deciding to drink a glass of wine while sitting on the couch to soothe his nerves. But it doesn’t stop until he hears the front door unlock and open, a pair of heels clicking against the wood floor. Which was interesting because you didn’t own heels— not going out enough to really bother with them. His head turns to look behind him over the back of the couch, sucking in a breath when he catches a glimpse of you in a tight dress, bent over to take your heels off. His head whips around to face straight again and tries to rid of the image burned in his retinas, free hand coming up to rub at his eyes.
Your feet slap against the ground quietly as you walk over to the couch, moving to sit on the other end of it and lean against the arm rest. You slouch over and sigh tiredly, ready to doze off. “How was work?” You ask, voice groggy.
Glancing away, Chuuya avoids looking at you, deciding to focus on his wine. “It was fine… jus’a lot of paperwork today,” He stiffly replies before hesitantly asking in return, “How was your date?”
He could not explain the relief he felt for a second time that night when he heard your groan of disdain, clearly having had a failed date. “It was going well and then after dinner he said that he wanted a blowjob because he was entitled to one after paying for my dinner even though I offered to pay for my own half. So really, he was just a douchebag,” You mumble out as you curl up further against the armrest, tugging a folded up throw-blanket off of the back of the couch to cover yourself with.
A loud scoff escapes Chuuya lips before he comments, “Yeah, sounds like a real piece of work.”
“S’not even the first time this stuff has happened,” And this fact has Chuuya eyeing you.
“You went on more dates?” He tries not to sound like he’s about to burst a vein, but knowing that you’ve gone on more dates than just the one guy has him nearly foaming at the mouth.
Shifting to sit up a bit, you wrap the blanket around your body and tuck your hands under your chin, watching him brew in a small bout of anger. “Yeah— went on a few actually, but they sucked too. I just went earlier in the evening while you were at work. Why’re you getting so worked up?” You hold back the amusement in your voice and let your eyes follow his bare hand to come up and run through his hair.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Would’ve kicked their asses,” Chuuya grumbles instead of answering your question directly. It makes you giggle quietly, holding back more laughs when his head whips over to look at you and his face scrunches up. “What? What are you laughin’ about? They’re fuckin’ assholes…” He strains, his cheeks flushing at your small grin.
“Nothing… just think it’s a little funny that you’re getting more upset about it than me,” You point out, moving over to sit closer to him.
“Because— cause…” Chuuya trails off, glancing to the side as his face only grows a darker shade of pink. “Guys can be jerk offs, okay? I would know. And it’s bullshit that they treat you like that.” You can tell that something is making him act unusual from his normal nonchalant demeanor— and it only encourages you to get even closer to him until you’re leaning shoulder to shoulder with him.
You think it’s a little cute that he’s so defensive over you, feeling his body stiffen at how you’re pressed against him before relaxing a bit, but still avoiding eye contact. “It’s fine, I’ll just chill on the dates for a while, no one’s been meeting any of my standards anyway. I’m starting to think I’m a little picky.”
“Yeah? What’s your standards?” He mumbles, staring down at his half full wine class as he waits for your response. But instead, he feels the weight against his body shift, your chest now pressing against his arm and warm breath blowing against the side of his neck. Turning his head to look at you, he sucks in a quiet breath as his heterochromatic eyes meet yours in a stare. You gaze at him with a knowing look, eyelids falling into a lull and pupils flickering down to focus on his lips— and he’s done for.
There is no perception of how much time has passed from Chuuya’s lips meeting yours to him lifting you up by the thighs to carry you off into his room and throw you down onto his bed. Climbing over you to hover above your body, his hands are pushing the hem of your dress up eagerly and fumbling to get his own shirt off, lips moving along yours messily, smacking together loudly as he presses you further into the mattress. Everything about his movements are desperate and impatient, taking you back as you had never seen him like this. You eventually tangle your fingers into his slightly mused hair to pull him off of you, panting loudly as you take in breaths of air.
A low groan rumbles from the back of Chuuya’s throat as he subconsciously moves back down to chase your lips, only to be met with your hand tugging on his hair again and an airy laugh from you. “Chuuya, slow down.”
Chuuya lets out a heavy huff, head falling to rest in the crook of your neck as his hands move up to rub along your sides. “You make it hard, pretty girl– ‘specially with this dress on. God, it drives me crazy knowing you wore this for someone else, s’just not fair,” He groans, fingers dragging down to finally push your dress over your hips to reveal your bare cunt to him. You weren’t wearing a damn thing underneath your dress. Chuuya feels at a loss for words, lips parting and pressing together in attempts to find the words he’s looking for before uttering a soft, “Fuck,” And meeting your gaze. “You’re not wearing anything,” He shakily utters, cock twitching to strain against his pants.
“I kind of forgot to do my laundry last night…” You shrug with a timid grin.
He nearly laughs— it’s just like you to do something like this— but he’s too distracted by the way your hand runs through his hair and legs shamelessly rubbing together to do so, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. He’s quick to decide his next moves at the sight, hands gripping your thighs to spread them open as he shifts himself down the bed to hover between your legs.
There’s a strangled noise that squeaks out from your throat at his impatient movements, cheeks burning when his rough hands press against the insides of your thighs to press your legs against the mattress, leaving yourself on full display for him. “What are you doing?” You slightly squirm beneath him.
“Stop that,” He orders firmly, pressing his hands harder down against your thighs. “I wanna taste you,” He murmurs, lips pressing down just below your belly button before moving down to your drooling cunt, his breath hot on your sensitive skin. If he wasn’t hard before, he certainly was now, grunting at the feeling of his aching length pressed against the mattress.
“You don’t have to do that, Chuuya,” You card a hand through his coppery tresses, tugging them for him to look at you.
Chuuya’s mismatched eyes trail up to meet yours, brows narrowed, face still hovering close to you. “I’m doing this cause I want to, dollface, so quit stalling and let me eat this pretty pussy out,” He huffs, bringing a hand down to spread your slick folds apart with his fingers. “Fuck, Sweetheart, can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this,” He groans, leaning in to place a wet kiss against your core. There’s a deep chuckle that leaves him when your hips jolt faintly under his touch and you bite back a moan. “Filthy girl, you like me kissing on your sloppy cunt like this?” He growls out, lips meet your warm insides again, moving against your labia and dripping entrance lewdly as his tongue slips out to lap up your arousal.
You can’t help but tighten your fingers in his hair, whimpering at the feeling of him making out with your pussy, tongue dragging through your lower lips painfully slow to savor your taste all the while staring up at you intensely through his lashes. “Chuuya…”
Chuuya hums softly against you, parting from your pussy with a soft kiss to your clit. “You taste so fuckin’ good, y’know that, pretty girl? Could’ve been doing this ages ago instead of wasting your time on those other guys,” He sighs, readjusting his arms to wrap around each of your thighs and rest them on his shoulders as he leaned back in to wrap his lips around your throbbing clit. His hips grind subtly into the mattress, desperate to rid of the stiffness in his weeping cock, whining lowly into you.
A gasp slips from your parted lips, hips bucking into him needily. “T-Thought you weren’t interested so I— ah— didn’t say anything. Mm! Shit, that feels really good, Chuuya,” You moan out when he sucks harshly at your sensitive nub, your fingers tangling into his messy hair further as you tug at them.
“Could’ve jus’ asked, doll,” He muffles, detaching his lips briefly to spit a glob of saliva onto your clit, watching it trail down to your entrance before bringing his thumb to swipe it back up to your clit, rubbing it in to mix with your arousal. “Like I’d pass up a gorgeous girl like you,” He trails off, burying himself back into you to plunge his tongue past your tight entrance, smothering your spit slickened nub with his thumb.
Your hips only grind harder against him with each curl of his tongue and rub of his thumb, eyes fluttering shut tightly and lips parting further with each broken moan. It’s difficult to respond or even think much with the stirring pleasure coiled in your lower stomach, the only words falling from your mouth being his name. You can’t even move away from the overwhelming pleasure when your release crashes down on you without warning, his arms locking you against him tightly, lips noisily smacking and slurping up everything you have to offer, his own loud groans reverberating against your pussy as he humps against the mattress with fervor, chasing his own high.
You let out a soft cry when he continues eating you out, rolling your pulsing clit between his teeth and tongue before suckling roughly, attempting to pull another orgasm out of you. “Oh, fuck! Chuuya, please— can’t— fuck, fuck— m’coming again,” You choke between whimpers, pulling roughly at his hair as you mindlessly buck your hips against his face until you’re coming for a second time on his tongue which has his own hips stuttering against the mattress as he comes in his pants.
Chuuya finally pulls himself away, placing a final kiss to your inner thigh before shifting to his knees and climbing back over you to cup the side of your neck and pull you into a needy kiss, the taste of your cum still on his tongue. “Y’pretty when you lose yourself like that, dollface. Had me comin’ in my pants,,” He chuckles breathlessly, trailing kisses down your chin to your neck and then back up to peck your lips. “You okay?” He asks, watching you tremble beneath him.
You give a lazy nod, your eyes meeting him to see his pupils lust-blown, hair wildly messed up, and chin drenched with your slick. One of your hands moves to the side of his face, thumb swiping over his chin to wipe away some of the mess he made with a small smile. “I’m okay,” You whisper, voice a bit raspy. “Are you okay?”
He gives you a lopsided grin, catching his breath, “Yeah, M’fine, sweetheart.” He then moves to lay beside you, tugging your dress all the way off your body to toss aside and pepper kisses along your shoulder, curling up against you. He ignores the dark stain in his slacks, leaving it to be a problem for later as he relaxes.
“Hey… Chuuya,” You call out, head turning to face him, nose bumping against his.
“Yeah, doll?”
“I lied about going on more than the one date tonight, I just wanted to see your reaction,” You admit, watching Chuuya’s face twist into multiple different emotions before settling on a blank look.
“You’re not walking for a week after tonight.”
“Woah! Let’s talk about this, I was just joshin’ you!“
“We’ll see how funny it is when you’re using crutches—“
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okay I’m dropping some of my fable arcane au thoughts before the new episodes drop tomorrow even tho most of it is based on season 1 anyway—
so some basic taggings for you that I based the AU around:
1. Icarus as Jinx.
powder vs jinx is just the sherbert vs icarus name thing. toxic father. unhealthy relationship with sibling. a lil crazy and maybe evil. thinks that they are at fault for the things around them. lil bombs? nah- little SPLASH potions. hearing and seeing mylo and claggor? it’s Haley- it’s literally Haley—
2. Fable as Silco.
okay fable’s design WAS partially inspired by silco— they literally look the same— they’re both a man with two priorities: take over and make his own nation & care for child.
you know the ending scene of season 1? where they’re sitting at the table? THAT. With Jinx assuming that he’s gonna give her up to topside and him getting the first chance to talk and saying “her name is JINX!” i could write an essay on that for icarus. they’re so toxic and it’s so perfect. also that scene at the start of s2 ep2? YEAH THAT—
3. Centross as Ekko
This one is controversial and up to debate but i will die on this hill— SO THE S1 BRIDGE FIGHT. I am so willing to put aside any possible prison duo gay-ness in this AU for that rivalry/fight. they were friends!!! they were so good!! and now they wanna KILL EACH OTHER!! it’s great.
It’s also specifically thinking of Ekko’s tree home as solstice— older Ekko very much has the vibe of Violet specifically-
4. Arisanna as Sevika
I DONT KNOW WHY BUT IT MAKES SENSE TO ME. It’s specifically vexed Ari during the coworkers era but idk it just feels right— I look at her relationship with Silco and Jinx and go ‘hmmm this could be something’
[I will also say there is an argument here for swapping Centross and Ari tho— big tree city as Ari rebuilding the records goes hard, and angsty fighty toxic with jinx centross is also good— it’s like 50/50 for me]
5. Isla as Vander
LET ISLA BE A BADASS IN THIS AU. SHE DESERVES IT— something something raising vi and powder alone, something something the backstory with silco— there’s something there and it hits really hard in scenes where vi sees vander and helps her get back up— also I look at jinx and vander and I go “mmmm this is in fact how icarus sees Isla”
6. Rae as Vi
This was obvious given the above but LISTEN— in this ALTERNATE UNIVERSE OF EVENTS I think it would be fun- do I think that vi perfectly fits canon rae? no. But in this world it would KICK ASS. rae deserves to beat some people up— got kicked out of the overworld (zaun) by fable (silco) and had to go to the end (piltover) to get away from him?? rae end prince aus are already here so why not end rae also punching people huh??? also. gay people.
———
Okay— here’s where I need some help, thoughts, and opinions from you all…
1. Caitlyn.
POLYAMORY IS HARD TO TAG AND I DONT KNOW WHO FITS BEST?? For me, season 1 Caitlyn fits best as Caspian, but season 2 Caitlyn is more for Fenris— so I’m very stuck. yes absolutely give thoughts on this please—
2. Viktor as Aax (but how does that work)
Viktor absolutely should be Aax— mr. Scientist / lab experiment / turned religious figure vessel for god is CORRECT. But honestly the rest of Piltover gang is really hard with Rae as Vi— Jayce/Viktor/Mel is yelling at me to be the polycule but aGH— ya know??? very stuck on this so I instead look at the coworkers and go “mm good yes—”
Random other tags I think also make sense:
- Ulysses as that Telchin looking mf Stev— mans took out one lil medical device as his fish self and I said YUP
- The hexcore big orb thing underground as Quixis— big white glitch orb room make things go wack. couldn’t be easier than that.
———
Anyways that’s all— I’ve been rotating this in my mind for like a week and have had way too many thoughts about it thank you for your time—
#this was so long and I’m not even mad#it goes hard#season 1 specifically works so well#fable smp#arcane#fablesmp arcane au#icarus morningstar
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Skill issue.
I’d love to be allowed to be as flawed and clever and mad and wonderful and nuanced as a Moffat Woman. I’d love to reclaim my narrative against fate itself and find myself a happy ending even after death. I’d love to still be sexy when women are past the age of being allowed to be in media.
I’d love not having to be perfect to be a victim and be able to stick it to the people who made me one with their so-called “harmless” thoughts and actions. I’d love to be able to look a man who betrayed me in the face and tell him that he is the problem and his jokes aren’t harmless.
I’d love to find my fairytale. I’d love to be a sapphic given immortality to travel with my lover and I’d love to do all of this with insanely good banter and character moments.
This is a skill issue on your part, being a Moffat Woman would be fucking awesome.
If there’s one fictional thing I’d never want to be, it would be a Woman Written By Steven Moffat. I’m not sure what this guy’s deal is, but he has an awful habit of creating badass yet sexualised female characters and then killing them tragically before they can be properly developed, then having them mourned by a sopping wet cat of a man. Now, some of these characters are my absolute favourite parts of the show - Clara Oswald, River Song and Missy for example, and there are a few exceptions such as Bill Potts, but I just think it would be a terrifying fate. I mean, can you even imagine? You’re wandering around a very dodgy London/space location in a short skirt with a thousand witty quips on the tip of your tongue, being trailed by a skinny guy in an unusual outfit, then you get shot or something and it’s very sad and tragic. I would just hate it.
#steven moffat#not derry girls#doctor who#Of course no show beats Derry Girls for being the best at portraying womanhood#but I maintain the likes of Douglas is Cancelled and Doctor Who and Press Gang are good as well#I don’t normally do responses but this was in the tag and I just want cool gifsets and analysis#also what the fuck /respectfully do you mean ‘and then you get shot or something?’#the point is that death doesn’t have to be the end for the Doctor Who women#they died AND THEN they live on somehow#and live full lives#like the Doctor!!!#why should he be the only one to live past death#it’s!!! building up to Thirteen thematically!!!#if anyone got the fridging treatment it was Rory but that doesn’t fit him as a sexist writer now does it#amazing how the companions and River Song reclaiming themselves after a death of sorts is dismissed#they quite literally have some of the most blatant agency any male writer has given their women#or have we forgotten Donna was mindwiped and Rose was given a clone of her love to pacify her loss#the fact that RTD went back and fixed Donna’s ending is a response TO MOFFAT making Clara have agency over her ending#I WILL BITE THINGS ACTUALLY I DO NOT CARE#Autism and ADHD walk into a bar and someone insults Steven Moffat’s Doctor Who writing: 👀😤😡🤬#I would actually go so far as to say as far as straight white make writers go Moffat is S-tier at writing women#“oh but he writes sex comedy! respectfully - fucking so what?#most of the bad Matt Smith moments were ad-libbed by the actors anyway so#and one written by Neil Gaiman#so#there’s that#also why CANT older women do sex comedy?#they should it is subversive actually#Bill Potts is me a black sapphic but Amy Pond is also me: neurodivergent and an outsider#and Clara is me: lowkey a control freak and River is me: curly hair and sex jokes
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Can you do a Connie with shy bimbo reader, and she's Ony sister that is off limit🙏🏿
Connie with a shy bimbo reader who’s also ony’s lil sister !
cw— reader is 23, Connie is 25, ma is used as a pet name, smut, pussy eating, clit sucking, cowgirl position,
a/n: usually don’t write this type of fics but hope u enjoy nonetheless anon 💙
wc: 1309 words
tags- @euphoricbi
The moment he saw shy!bimbo reader he wanted her. As Onyankopon introduced her with her by his side introducing her to the whole gang he just zoned out looking at her. He eyed her from the white earmuffs, pink sweater that matched with her comfortable looking pink skirt that fit her snug around her bottom and knee length pink platform boots.
Anything onyankopon was saying was going out one ear and out the other. When he caught her staring at him he did a small wave at her then smiled at her gasping then looking back down at the floor. He finally snapped out when onyankopon stopped his speech.”Hopefully you all welcome my lil sis nicely, she’s a part of the gang now yes?” Connie snorted at that, she was gonna be a part of the gang somehow by him
Connie didn’t respect onyankopon’s rule of her being off limits at all. When Onyankopon was in the living room chatting with all the other boys he snuck after her when he saw her head upstairs to the bathroom. He was gonna give her her own privacy to use the bathroom till he heard some crashing and yelp coming from her. He was hesitant, not wanting to invade her private time in there but concerned nevertheless so he twisted the doorknob opening it to a confused shy!bimbo reader on the floor with tissue on her face and shoes and what looked like toothpaste in her wig.
If this was anyone else he would’ve busted out laughing like he always does but came forward to her helping her up.”quite a fall huh?” She just trembled her lip pouting.”tried washing my hands.. heard toothpaste has like the same ingredients as regular soap.”
He sighed chuckling.”and where’d you hear that? Reddit?” “Mhm!” He nearly choked on his words from her simple hum and laughed taking the tissue off and kneeling down to the tissue off her boots then coming up to look at her hair, at the top was obvious white Colgate paste on her head.”never trust Reddit baby, now c'mon.. gotta convince your big bro somehow that this isn’t my fault even though it ain’t.”
shy!bimbo reader who sits in her brother's SUV while Connie gets told off by him. She didn’t know what words were exchanged but obviously harsh ones with onyankopon’s body language from her view of watching it through a window.
“Just stay away my little sister con, I know how you get. I don’t want your hands poisoning her.” Connie snorted.”I have no plans of “corrupting” her ‘kopon, was just helping the girl out. You should really teach her sense of direction and her surroundings because who knew how she would’ve ended up if I wasn’t around?”
Onyankopon just sighed touching the brim of his nose.”Just, stay away, yes? I know how you and eren can be so don’t try anything sneaky.” Connie waved him off groaning in a low voice then waving at y/n again when he caught her staring at him.
shy!bimbo reader didn’t listen to onyankopon’s warning at all and neither did Connie as they both found some way to get to know each other behind his back until he finally started to invite her to his house. On her first invite she was shy, hesitating to step inside and leave the front door. It was cute to Connie making him chuckle and lead her in by the small of her back.”Cmon ma, don’t be shy, come out that shell and c'mon in I won’t bite.”
shy!bimbo reader slowly but surely got comfortable with Connie with him showing and teaching her more things. When she told him how she never wanted to dress more proactive, not wanting to seem ‘easy’ he made a clicking sound with his tongue at that.”Bullshit, dress as nasty and inappropriate as you please, real men find that hot.” He said putting emphasis on hot, making her pouty lips make a o shape at that.
shy!bimbo reader for sure took his word though. Making his jaw drop when she would show up in a crop top pink jacket showing her belly and low waist jeans and a dark brunette straight lace with a more excited smile than a shy one at his foot step. Connie has a dry mouth before clearing his throat saying,”you look real different baby.”
shy!bimbo reader was always doing something to tease him now too and Connie couldn’t blame anyone but himself for teaching her these things. He was always caught by surprise when she would jump onto him when he was laying down and come in contact with his bulge making him groan whilst she giggled with a acrylic hand on her mouth. It was all playful to her in a way.”scared you didn’t I con?” While he was just groaning.”scared the damn pants off me nearly..” he mumbled under his breath.
shy!bimbo reader experiments more with connie. When they’re vibing she gets quiet at a flashing sex scene in a movie on the living room Tv and Connie could tell smirking at her when she looked away with her legs squished together.”That got you hot baby?” wrapping a hand around her waist for full effect.”hm?” He adds for full effect making her slowly nod and look at him.
“Wanna tell me what part you liked?” He paused the movie to stop the loud exaggerating moans coming from the flatscreen Tv. She bit her finger before answering.”liked the part where like.. he had her shoulders on his legs and had her screaming.” Connie’s hands started to inch towards her thighs.”oh yeah? Want me to do that huh baby?” His hands reached her inner thighs making her shiver a little and nod.
shy!bimbo reader gets whiny when Connie eats her out. Making whines and soft moans scratching at connie’s buzzcut head with her legs on his shoulders flailing around as he just eats so sloppily.”connieee!” He chuckled at how she was so lost in pleasure that she called him the wrong name and his laughter vibrated inside her pussy making her moan out and cry more arching her back onto the bed. When he pulls out tricks like tonguing and licking her clit it’s too much for her and her vision gets blurry letting out a final high moan and cumming.
shy!bimbo reader found out exactly what she liked doing with Connie especially in sex and that was riding him in the cowgirl position. She wouldn’t admit it because of Connie's teasing but it made her feel powerful to see him unravel from how she would ride him with her hands on his chest and her ass slapping right down everytime. His groans would turn into moans with him having to grip onto her waist to control himself.”Ugh fuck! m-ma! Slow down!” a stutter in his voice and his face just flushed unlike his usual cocky and joking self.
Y/n just continued to slam herself down onto him.”Mmph no! Y-you’re-ah!- pay back for always teasin’ and picking on me!” She did this until all was heard was moans groans and high moans erupting from them.
shy!bimbo reader started getting even more bold in public with him outside of just things inside his room. She didn’t deliberately say she’s shacked up with Connie but there were hints. The way she giggled at his jokes whenever he was around at onyankopon’s house always got some good eyebrow raises from Jean eren and armin.
Once onyankopon left the room for a quick moment they were quick to stare at Connie and Connie just stuck his tongue out and shrugged his shoulders.”What ony don’t know won’t hurt him.”
#connie x black y/n#connie x black reader#connie smut#connie x reader smut#connie x reader#connie x you#connie springer x reader#aot x black reader#aot smut#black reader smut#anime x black!reader#anime x female reader#aot x female reader#aot connie#connie aot#connie springer x black y/n#connie springer x black reader#connie springer x y/n#conn no I#connie springer smut#connie springer x you#connie springer#connie springer x black reader smut#aot x black y/n#aot x y/n#anime smut#smut anime
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𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 - 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Summary: You are shut down by Steve, finding yourself being comforted by your best friend Eddie. After your usual smoke and movie night, it was Eddie who reassured you.
Fluff: Soft Nicknames, kissing, hand-holding, resting head on shoulder, reassurance.
Tagged and cowritten: @doomsdaybby <3
| Masterlist | KO-FI | Divider credit |
You had fancied Steve for a long time.
Every time you tried to get over him, he always found a way making you like him again.
But what you didn’t know was whether he felt the same way.
He was popular, hung around the mean type. There were always other girls around them, giving you little time alone with Steve.
It was not like you would truly stand a chance with him anyway, you were not popular. You had a few friends who occasionally hung around with you.
But your group was called weird by a few of the popular gang.
Steve never said anything mean towards you since that one day when you were both 8. But you knew he wasn’t nice to everyone else, which is why you began to feel special.
However, he was only nice to you because he thought he needed to be. You did save him from a wasp, as he told you then. He was allergic to wasps.
So you and Steve weren’t friends, you’d never be friends with mean Steve but he tolerated you.
Until he saw you began to be friends with Eddie.
He was the complete opposite to Steve, he was kind and caring with no hidden agenda.
You laughed more with Eddie than you would with Steve, the only obvious difference was that Eddie fancied you and you fancied Steve.
“I don’t get why you like him, he doesn’t even know you exist” he shrugged, stubbing his cigarette against the brick wall.
You looked over at Steve, he was laughing loudly with his friends about something. A girl had just came around and draped herself over him.
“He does, I think?” You grimaced, not wanting to admit that Eddie was right. You swiped at him.
“So have you even done anything with since you were 8?” He asked, his thick eyebrows pierced his brow as he looked at you.
Eddie enjoyed teasing you about Steve, he wanted to know why you didn’t like him instead.
“Well no, not really. He sometimes carries my books when his friends aren’t around” you said shyly, trying not to think too much about it.
The romanticised version of Steve your head was going to burst any second but you liked it. It helped you through hard times, having a crush.
“Oo isn’t he a lovely man” Eddie said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he began to light another cigarette.
As he took the first drag, you took it from him and inhaled it yourself. Coughing heavily as the smoke went into your lungs, Eddie began to laugh at you.
Thrusting the cigarette back into his hands as you overcame the coughing fit, your cheeks flushed red from both embarrassment and lack of oxygen.
Just at the moment when you saw Steve striding over to you both, most of his friends had disappeared not long after the bell rang. But a few lingered across the grounds, watching them all with evil grins.
“Not a surprise” Eddie muttered under his breath, blowing smoke directly in the way of Steve.
He didn’t like Steve because of how he treated you. You could say he was protective of his best friend but there was more to that.
“Hey, babe. I saw you coughing, you ok?” Steve asked, pretending to care about you.
“Oh yes, I just inhaled the cigarette wrong” you blushed, trying to straighten out your outfit.
“Good, because I think we should go on a date” he tried to hold his snigger as he spoke to you.
Your eyes lit up at the words “date”, your stomach fluttered with excitement.
“Yes of course I will” you practically shouted in his face before realising and calmed down.
He nodded, touched your arm slightly before turning back towards his friends. You didn’t notice them as you turned to face Eddie.
“I can’t believe you let yourself fall for his tricks” he sighed, letting his last cigarette drop to the floor.
“Well Eds, I have to go really. I think it’s time” you squealed, still not believing that it would be a ploy.
As everyone else disappeared inside, you and Eddie followed before separating to go to your different classes.
After class, you were replacing your books in your locker when you overheard Steve. He was talking to his friends, not having seen you.
“So you asked her on a date?” His friend sneered.
“I tried to make it friendly” Steve said to him.
“She won’t take it that way” his other friend joked.
“Well it will only be one date, think of my reputation if I’m seen with her” he said rather meanly.
You sighed, trying to pick the right books for the next class.
“No kissing then?” His friend laughed at him.
They were pushing each other behind you,
“Definitely not, I won’t even hold her hand. She means nothing to me” he spat cruelly.
Slamming your locker door shut, tears stung your eyes as you turned to face Steve and his friends.
They were still laughing and talking about you, not ones to give up.
Steve didn’t notice you until the very last minute, as you pushed past him. You could have sworn he mumbled “shit”.
But your feelings were hurt, the romanticism of him was slowly disappearing as you rushed to the fourth class of the day.
You didn’t see Eddie until the bell rang, by that point you were on the verge of tears.
Fed up of the stuffy classrooms, laughing peers and Steve.
Eddie was waiting for you in his usual spot, leaning against his van with a cigarette in his mouth.
You couldn’t wait to get inside the van and light a joint, soft rain began to patter across the grounds. Making you rush towards the van even quicker.
“Sweetheart” Eddie grinned, flicking his cigarette away.
Trying to smile back at him felt uncomfortable, taking a second to breathe before climbing next to him in the van.
Th engine rattled to life, Eddie sped out of the car park and drove until he reached the usual smoking spot.
Quieting the music, pinching the joint between his lips when he turned to face you.
“So are you going to tell me what is wrong?” He asked before starting the blunt.
You refused to answer, not wanting to admit to Eddie that you felt for Steve’s “tricks”.
Eddie turned the music up as he passed the blunt between you both. Watching the rain and you relax into the seat his van, just like you always did.
After a while, the silence got louder and you sighed. The blunt was out and you were more relaxed.
“I overheard Steve telling his friends that his reputation would be ruined by dating me” you said sadly.
Avoiding Eddie’s eyes, you focused on the individual raindrops sliding down the window pane.
His hand touched yours, resting on top of your thigh. He didn’t speak for a second.
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t listen to him” his hand moved up your body to your face, turning you to look at him.
Tears dropped from your eyes as you stared at him, he wiped them away.
“I can’t help it, I truly believed him” you shuddered.
Dropping your head to stare at your lap, not needing his sympathy any longer.
“I know but that is not your fault” he said softly, his face was inches away from yours.
You could smell his cologne against his chest, the weed smoke was still floating through the van.
He looked so pretty against the sunset, you had never noticed it before.
“Can we go home Eddie?” You squeaked, breaking the moment.
“Of course Sweetheart” he nodded, turning away to start the van.
You pushed yourself up against the van window, watching Hawkins flash by your window as the music played.
Eddie parked on your driveway, your parents loved his company. Despite them rarely being there, they trusted him with you.
So as Eddie took his usual spot against your bedroom wall, your mixed emotions began to stir.
Still feeling rather heartbroken over Steve, you placed a tape into the VHS box and turned on your TV.
Jumping onto the bed next to Eddie, your hands almost touching as you stared at the film in front of you.
Neither of you spoke throughout the film, it was nice not to think of anything. Resting your head against his shoulder, it was always like this with Eddie.
It was easy but with Steve. You found yourself trying too hard, feeling the need to get his approval.
But you already had that with Eddie.
Not realising that you had fallen asleep until Eddie’s voice and gentle shake startled you.
“Sweetheart, im going to go home.” He smiled at you.
Groggily, you ventured downstairs with Eddie. As he leant into his van, his face was inches away from yours.
“See you around Angel” he smiled at you.
As you tilted your head to look at him, your mouth parted as your eyes flickered to his lips.
Unsure if it was lack of sleep or Steve’s dismissal but there was something about Eddie tonight.
You found yourself edging closer to him, wanting to kiss him.
So when he met you, his lips touching yours. You felt powerful, they were soft and tender.
Moving perfectly with yours as his hands cupped your face, you melted into him.
Too distracted to even hear a car pull up, he kissed you passionately enough that you didn’t hear Steve’s yelp.
When you pulled away, rather dazzled. Cheeks and lips stained red, it wasn’t at the last minute that you noticed Steve.
And suddenly everything came crashing down.
Eddie was already preparing to leave your drive when you walked over to Steve.
“I’m glad you aren’t upset anymore” Steve said bitterly.
“Why would it matter to you Steve?” You sighed at him.
“I don’t know, I upset you” he shrugged at you.
He had returned to his car, Eddie had left a few moments before leaving you and Steve together.
“You only entertain me because I fancied you, you like to be liked Steve” you said bluntly.
“We could still be friends” he asked naively.
You laughed at him, stepping back so that he could get into his car.
“Eddie is the only friend I want, goodbye Steve” you smirked at him.
Moving closer to the front door, you watched him glumly disappear from your driveway. Only feeling sad that Eddie had to leave.
You weren’t sure if you always had hidden feelings for him or that you needed to be let down by Steve to realise it.
Whatever it was, you were happy to be rid of him.
Once upstairs, you pulled the telephone extension into your bedroom. Pressing play onto the film earlier, you punched in the number that was burnt into your phone.
It rang for a second before his voice echoed on the other side of the phone.
“How was he?” You could hear him drinking on the other side.
“He kept his promise not to kiss me” you bit your lip.
Playing with the cord with your fingers,
“Good, I think that I should be the one to do that now” he took a sip of his drink.
“Good night Eddie” you grinned at his comment.
“Good night Sweetheart” he whispered to you.
His nickname for you always made your chest flutter but you buried it deep inside you.
Not wanting to admit that you liked anyone else but Steve.
Though as you laid there in bed, you wondered if you even truly liked Steve or if it was a habit you couldn’t break.
Eddie had always been there, distantly by your side. As you went through high school, he didn’t talk about you to his friends like Steve did.
His eyes didn’t roll as you approached him, his smile was bright and wide.
The Devil and the Angel was what you were called and you suddenly felt okay with letting Steve go.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x plus size reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington x fem!reader#stranger things#steve x reader#steve x female reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x reader
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Oppa | (dino smut)
Pairing: BadBoy!Dino X Reader Synopsis: You should not even be friends with your brother's best friend. But it felt so good to tease Lee Chan about his need to be called oppa. Genre: smut Word Count: 5.6K Warning: HUGE MASSIVE EXTREME GIGANTIC OPPA KINK FROM DINO'S SIDE. protected sex. masturbation (f). teasing. dirty talk. praise. name calling (whore, slut). oral (f receiving). squirting. petnames (doll, pretty, baby). degradation. some level of possessiveness. pretty romantic smut. jeonghan smokes and dino drinks. Tag: - A/N: I could say that I'm sorry but I'm not I fucking love this one. also i'm a sucker for mullet dino
"C'mon, don't get so mad, oppa" You said, a large grin spread across your face "That grumpy look doesn't fit your handsome face" If looks could kill, you would have been dead long time ago, or maybe now, giving that Lee Chan looked through you as if he wanted to burn a hole in your skull. And he wanted badly.
"Will you ever call me in the proper way without making it sound like I'm a joke to you?" He clenched his teeth, opening the beer can with rather force and gulping down hard on the burning liquid.
"Who says you aren't a joke to me?" You smiled, earning a violent cough from Dino as he choked hard on his drink. You were the most impossible, insufferable, annoying, persistent, bratty person Chan had ever met. You were mean to him for no other reason than being funny, and he hated that he couldn't pay back. He always claimed he couldn't because you were his best friend's little sister, that he would never do anything because Jeonghan might kill him. You half wished it was true, and half wished it was because he liked you and tolerated your behavior for the sake of love. He cleaned his mouth on his shirt, breathing heavily as his patience was running out very quickly.
"Good to know you see someone older as a joke" He sounded serious, and you wanted to die out of laughter "Good to know that respect is the least of your concerns" He tapped the counter, looking back with almost fire in his eyes as his anger boiled his insides with rage. You could see his tense jaw.
"Oh please, I save respect for those who deserve it" You smirked, knowing you just had hit the sore spot. Earning it. Dino was known for being more than just competitive, for earning his spot on your brother's bike gang. He was known for doing anything to earn what had to earn, whether it would be money, respect or some random girl he found pretty. You weren't jealous, no. You could see the red rising on his skin, his fingers gripping back on his hand as he clenched his jaw even more, sharp eyes almost cutting you with his gaze.
"Oh… So I don't deserve your respect, Y/N?" His voice dropped an octave, and you could feel your legs pressing against each other. Thank god the counter covered your figure from the waist down "Interesting… It appears like I'm going to have to show you how deserving of your respect I am"
"Maybe" You shrugged, sounding uninterested on his offer to earn you "I guess you could show off how amazing you are and try to get me impressed so I can finally call you oppa without wanting to laugh" Your smirk was almost as annoying as your brothers, almost as punchable as Jeonghan's devilish smile. To Dino, it was more "Your need for my respect is… what do they call it? Ah! Cute"
“Cute?!” Before any of you could do anything, the door of the kitchen opened with one motion, well, with one kick as your brother entered the room, cigar in the corner of his mouth and two other dudes behind him. Seungcheol and Joshua, you knew everyone in his gang at that point. Dino adjusted his posture, bowing in a 90º angle towards Jeonghan, making you chuckle lightly “Sir Jeonghan” The politeness that dripped from his voice almost made you laugh out loud, if it wasn’t for the fact that it made Jeonghan laugh out loud.
“Sir Jeonghan? Do you think I’m like fifty five or something? You can call me hyung, kid” Your brother slapped Chan in the back, making his whole body jolt forward as the younger one gave him an embarrassed smile. Turning his whole body towards you, Jeonghan took the cigarette off of his mouth, putting it out on the little trail on the corner of the counter you were currently in “We’ll be gone for like, some hours. I’m leaving you some money and if you need anything…” Jeonghan slapped Dino’s back again, the clear pain being visible on the boy’s face “Lee Chan won’t hesitate to come right to your service, right Chan?” Your brother’s smile was as sarcastic as it could get.
“Y-Yeah, I’ll come right away…” He sounded embarrassed, as if he wasn't almost shouting at you like two minutes ago.
“Yeah, that’s all. You know the drill, just doing some races for the money. I’ll be back before four AM. Let’s go guys” Jeonghan gave you a tight hug and handed you the cash, indicating the door to the others as he pulled another cigarette from his pocket, ready to light. You and Dino exchanged looks, his filled with rage, yours filled with excitement. He couldn’t help but mouth “I’ll kill you when I come back” before leaving, making you giggle like a child.
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You were extremely tempted, Dino’s number on your screen looking more delectable than ever. One move and you would cause Chan’s temper to burst out of rage, you knew how much he loved to be on those races, along with your brother’s gang, the feeling of being on a motorbike, speeding up and earning money from doing so. You knew he would never forgive you for taking away the experience of finally feeling like he belonged somewhere, even if the older one’s teased him all the time. You grunted, frustrated that your morals and stupid heart were speaking louder than your head, not letting you call Lee Chan and ruin his night. It was not your fault that you liked his company, even if ninety percent of the time he was annoyed by you.
Throwing your phone to the side, you jumped on the bed, laying spread as you stared at the ceiling, sighing loudly. You just couldn’t get him out of your head. His slicked back mullet, a hair strain that always seemed to fall on his exposed forehead, his strong eyebrows that furrowed everytime he got concentrated on something, his lip piercing that every now and then would get caressed by his tongue as he licked his lips. You were obsessed with the way he dressed too, you swore you never saw someone as stylish as him, his leather jackets and tank tops making your head spin in circles. And how could you forget the way he looked when he was on top of his motorbike? Gloved hands gripping on the handles, the way he took off his helmet, hair always a bit sweaty from the adrenaline of running around. Dino was a walking temptation to you, and it was even harder because he was your older brother’s friend, which meant he was off limits.
Lost in your thoughts, you failed to miss the way your hand automatically traveled south, diving inside your pajama shorts and panties, fingertips lightly rubbing your sensitive clit, a soft moan escaping your lips as you closed your eyes and thought of the one you loved. Everything about Chan was too good to you, his piercing gaze as his dragon eyes looked you up and down with disapproval, his strong arms that tensed up as he gripped onto something to control himself, his clenched jaw as he bit his tongue and let you make fun of him. He was so handsome, even when angry, and that made you crazy. You let a finger slide inside your folders, imagining it was his long fingers, toying with your pussy and making you moan, your other hand grabbing the pillow underneath your head.
“C-Chan…” You let out, hips arching away from the bed as you let another finger dip into your heat, your walls clenching from the thought of him being with you, rubbing your cunt and dragging you into a messy kiss. You dreamed of kissing his lips, yearning to know how it would taste, would his piercing make everything taste like iron? Would his plush tongue dive into your mouth, making you feel the taste of his favorite can beer? Would he drag his kiss across your jaw, biting and sucking into your skin as your hips rode his hand, his calloused fingers curling up inside you and brushing up against your sweet spot? Your back arched as you felt the coil underneath your stomach appear quickly, your fingers working inside of you just like they did every night. Your mouth stood hanging open, whines and moans erupting from your throat as your folds gripped around your hand and wet your fingers.
“O-Oppa… P-Please…” You would never say it out loud, that you liked calling him oppa. That you were into the visual of seeing him getting full of himself as you finally addressed him the way he wanted with proper respect. That the idea of calling him oppa as he dived into your body got you turned on. You would never ever admit to him, nor to yourself, that you loved calling him like that, that you wanted to call him that while he railed you in any position “O-Oppa, I’m so close…” Your head was thrown back, eyes starting to gather tears as your fingers pumped in and out of your pussy. The gushing sounds should make you embarrassed, but they only turned you on even more, just the thought of being this wet because of him making you moan out loud again. Thank god Jeonghan wasn’t home. The coil on your stomach got tighter, your legs closing as a reflex as you chased your high desperately, needing that sweet sweet release. It wasn't long until you felt yourself squirting, ruining your underwear and shorts, your mind going blank as the wave of pleasure cruised through your body and made your legs shake, your chest moving up and down rapidly as you tried to compose yourself. Your fingers lingered a bit too long on your heat, the little shock of overstimulation making your hips halt as you stabilized your mind back to reality, eyes slowly opening to stare at the ceiling again. You wished everything you had just imagined was real.
“Y/N?” You froze. Your mind was too foggy with the lust you were feeling, that was it, it wasn't Lee Chan’s actual voice calling for you, right?
“Y/N… did you mean to call me?” It was his voice, coming from your phone, that got tossed to the side like one of your clothes. You rushed, fumbling around with your covers and with your messy hand, cleaning on a towel you had for these occasions before grabbing your phone. You were on a voice call with him, and you don’t know how long he had been hearing you.
“U-Uh, C-Chan! Good that you picked up! I need you to pass to my brother, need to talk to him!” You tried to cover your embarrassment, swallowing thick as you hoped he bought the idea that you called him to talk to Jeonghan. Your hands trembled, the anxiety washing over you as he took a little bit too long to answer you.
“... Are you sure you want to talk to him?” The emphasis on him made you bite your lip, your heart beating fast. He had noticed your little plan “... I can come back if you need something. Jeonghan is busy” You froze again. Lee Chan was offering to come back? The Lee Chan that always whined and complained when he needed to get you something? “Besides, he told us that I would come back if you needed something, right?”
“... Right” Your voice was above a whisper, your body had sunk on itself as you sat on the floor of your room, back resting against the foot of your bed. Your body was numb, both from your orgasm and from the talk.
“Jeonghan-hyung!” You heard him call your brother, his voice sounding a bit more far away “Y/N said she’s not feeling very well, I’ll come back to check on her okay? Don’t know if I’ll be able to come back… I’ll be there in twenty” His voice sounded closer to the phone on the last bit, the call ending shortly after, leaving you holding your own phone while staring blankly at the wall in front of you. You couldn’t tell how much Dino had heard, nor what his reaction was. You hoped you weren’t screwed, the last thing you needed at this moment was the boy you liked becoming distant because he heard you masturbating and moaning his name.
Those were the slowest and most agonizing twenty minutes of your whole life. You walked from side to side in the living room, checking the wall clock every five seconds as if that was going to make the time stop, wishing that Chan never arrived so you wouldn’t have to face him at all. But at last, you heard the bell of your house ring, a breathy sigh leaving your lips as you turned your body towards the front door, praying for it to not be him, or for him to not look you in the eye. Your hand twisted the door knob, opening just a little bit of it and slightly looking through it, your gaze being met with Dino’s as he looked back at you with an indecipherable look.
“Hm… Can I come in?” You couldn’t figure out what the tone was, if he was disappointed, worried or just calm. You opened the door whole, turning yourself away from him and walking straight to the kitchen, not wanting to look him in the eye. You sat at the stool from the counter, hearing his steps as his boots stomp their way into the kitchen, a sound of plastic shuffling around caughting your attention. You looked back, seeing as he placed a plastic bag on another counter, checking the content on it and then turning himself at you. You quickly looked back to your front, ears and cheeks burning red from the embarrassment and feeling of being near him after what happened.
“Ignoring me is not gonna help, y’know” He sounded calm, opposite from you at the moment. You swallowed thick before looking back again, head low as you could barely look him in the eye. He was laid back against one of the counters, elbows holding his torso up. You couldn’t see a trace of grossness or rage on his face, remaining quiet as he looked back at you, up and down “... Did you mean?”
“W-What?” You wanted to curse at your body as your voice cracked, your hands gripping against the fabric of the pants you had changed to.
“Did you mean to call me at that moment? Or did your dumbass accidentally call me?” Hearing him curse you felt more natural, a bit of the tension on your body leaving as you relaxed a bit. Hopefully he was still the Dino you knew.
“Of course I meant to call you! I said that I wanted to speak to Jeonghan” You pouted, crossing your arms as you tried to keep the narrative from earlier on. You wished he would bite it.
“... So you wanted Jeonghan to hear his little sister moaning one of his friends' names while she touched herself?” Your face dropped. He had heard everything. He even had deducted perfectly what you were doing, not that it was hard to with your moans and whines. He straight his posture up, crossing his arms and walking closer to you. You sunk against yourself again, looking up at him as he stared at you with clouded eyes “I’m not saying I liked it but… I got kinda disappointed when you stopped”
“H-Huh?” Your voice got caught in your throat, your confused eyes searching on his for some clear answer. What did he mean by that? Did he enjoy hearing you?
“Don’t play dumb, doll” One of his hands gripped your jaw, holding your face still as you watched the light on his eyes shift “You were moaning my name and calling me oppa while fucking yourself. Don’t tell me I heard shit wrong cause we both know what was happening” His voice dropped an octave, your thighs rubbing on each other as a reflex “I kinda wished you kept going, I was really enjoying hearing you desperately calling me like that. Needy and ready to take me” His words made you want to whine, but you held back, still scared of what he would think of it, even if he had just admitted getting hard from listening to you.
“I…” You could only muther, mind still trying to process all of the new information. His lips smirked, the piercing shining against the light of the kitchen. He let out a big sight, letting go of your face and making you lean a bit into his touch, wishing he had kept his hand there.
“But I guess I can do nothing, since I’m not deserving of your respect, right?” His smirk grew larger as he noticed your face drop even more, your words from earlier lingering across your mind. Your mouth opened to protest, but no sound came out of it, your head burning to find an answer quick enough “What? Did the cat finally get your tongue?”
“Chan, please…” You didn’t even notice your current state as your voice pleaded for him. Your puppy eyes looked up at him, glazed with a shiny coat of tears that threatened to fall from the corners. Your legs were squished together, heat searching for friction, while your hands gripped tightly on your pants, fingers fumbling with the soft fabric. The view of you in such a vulnerable state, begging for him, made a sharp sting run across Dino’s cock, his turn to swallow hard as his bulge became even more visible through his tight pants. He straight himself, looking you up and down yet again before holding your jaw once more.
“... You’re gonna be nice and do everything oppa tells you to do?” He arched an eyebrow, watching carefully as the light in your eyes shifted too, your throat swallowing the lump it had formed on the bottom of it.
“Yes oppa” There was a tremble, a breathiness in your tone that made Chan hiss, fingers gripping tightly your face. He was quick as he grabbed one of your wrists, pulling you up and dragging you out of the kitchen, not before grabbing something inside of the plastic bag and tossing it in his pocket. You couldn’t even process before he threw you inside of your room, somehow managing to close the door as if your brother could come inside at any minute. His aura as he approached you, so intimidating, making you feel small, at the same time so inviting and making you want to beg for him. The feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist was wonderful, his body gluing to yours as his lips searched for yours.
Making out with him was more than just heaven, it was borderline addicting. His lips felt so soft, with just the right hint of roughness whenever his piercing pressed against your own lips. He tasted like the most amazing mixture of alcohol and snacks, a lingering sensation of beer with a mixture of caramel, and when he moaned against your mouth, gosh, you felt your legs almost give in, being secured in place by his strong embrace. Your fingers tangled with his soft locks, feeling the texture of his slick back hair, pulling ever so slightly whenever he bit into the kiss, a soft whimper coming out of your mouth and just fuelling Dino even more. His tongue overlapped yours as you two got lost into each other's touch, his need for dominance and control making your folds get slicker and your thighs to press against each other, your balance already betraying you and only pushing you further into his arms.
“You’re so annoying…” He said between the kiss, teeth slightly biting your bottom lip as he pulled away softly, diverging his attention to your jaw, dragging his tongue across the line of your face as you shifted your neck, allowing him more access “Always poking fun of me and making me mad…” He bit and nibbled your skin, leaving a trail of reddish marks as his kisses traveled south, the feel of his warm tongue leaping along your neck making your head spin in circles. Was this really happening? “But gosh, you couldn’t be more beautiful and tempting, could you?” His words made you blush, the crimson tint spreading across your flushed face and ears, a whine leaving your lips at the praise “Just the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met… And so funny too, just so fucking annoying, and only with me” He pulled away, fingers gently pulling your chin so you could met his fiery gaze. A mixture of lust and passion, his vision seemed clouded, filled with you, just like your senses were filled with him “Tell me, Y/N, why do you love to annoy me?”
“Want your attention…” Your head didn't have control over your mouth anymore, your thoughts spilling from your lips without hesitation as if you were under some sort of spell casted by Chan. Your eyes looked up at him, asking for more “I want you for me…” A smirk grew on the corner of his lips, the arm hooking around your waist pulling you even closer, his hand dangerously close to your ass, where you wanted it to be.
“Oh pretty, you already have me all for you” His confession made your heart thump loud in your chest, your hands gently squeezing his shoulders “Wouldn't want anyone else but my sweet little Y/N. Even if Jeonghan chops my dick off” You chuckled lightly. Sure, Jeonghan did said to all of his friends that if they touched you, they were dead, but he would never get in the way of your happiness “I’m all yours, baby” He whispered, pulling you into another intense kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as his body guided you towards your bed, laying you down as he climbed on top of you. Your legs easily spread open to allow him access, his hands caressing you through the fabric of your pants, his fingers gently squeezing your thighs the closer he got to your heat. He broke the kiss momentaneously, searching in your eyes for consent to take them off of you, eyes growing cloudier with lust when you nodded a bit too eager in agreement. His fingers hooked in the waistband, dragging the piece of clothing off slowly from you for the tease, enjoying when he saw the pout grow in your lips at your impatience. You’ve been waiting so long for this, and so was he, but he wasn’t going to give in that easily. He was gonna pay back all those years of teasing you made him go through.
Your lack of underwear made him curse under his breath, and the wetness adorning your folds made him lick his lips, dragging a thumb across your cunt, making your hips buckle out of sensitivity. He took the wet thumb to his mouth, licking it while keeping eye contact with you, the sinful view of him humming and smirking directly at you making a breathy moan escape your lips, your fingers daring to move towards your pussy and gently touch your sensitive bud.
“Don’t worry princess. I’ll take good care of my little slut” He sounded so endearing, all while adjusting himself between your legs, strong hands holding your thighs open with enough force to leave bruises. You could feel his breath close to your folds, your head getting thrown back when he licked a stripe across, your mouth not holding back sounds as his wet muscle skilfully worked on your heat. He gave open mouthed kisses, capturing your clit between his lips and sucking on it, one of his hands releasing your leg and scooting closer, fingertips teasing your hole with shallow touches. The feeling of the cold piercing dragging along your hot cunt sent a shiver down your spine, your mind starting to get fuzzy as he introduced a finger inside your hole, slowly prepping you while his mouth continued to eat you out like the finest dessert. His eyes kept fixated on your image, soaking in all the information, from the way your breath hitched when he curled his fingers, to how you whined when he flicked his tongue on your swollen bud, to how you were fighting to not close your thighs around his head, legs shaking from the way he dived into you with his mouth. Dino could feel your walls clenching around his finger, smoothly adding another one to the mix and scissoring them, a brief smirk growing on his glistening lips when you moaned his name as he hit yet again that spongy spot that made you see stars. He could tell you were short from cumming, his tongue dragging across your slit, only to plant a wet kiss on your sensitive spot and abruptly stop, fingers leaving you empty. You flushed your eyes open, the red tint that spread across your face and covered chest looking a bit too adorable to Lee Chan.
“W-Why did you stop?” You whined, wanting to close your legs but being stopped by his hands. He spread them open even more, making you sink in embarrassment as you felt exposed to his eyes, your hands trying to fly to your face to hide the shyness.
“Don’t you dare to hide your face” He sounded so stern, a tone that you definitely weren't used to hearing from him “Want you to cum on my cock. I can make you cum on my tongue another day pretty” You felt yourself contracting around nothing again, a whimper being your only response as he started to take off his own clothes. He was as fit as you dreamed, his toned torso calling out to you, your arm stretching and fingers grazing lightly on his abs, his skin felt soft yet so warm. You fumbled to take off your own top, the cold breeze hitting your skin and making you hiss, the view of your exposed self sending another sting run through the shaft of Dino’s dick, his hands desperate to take off the leather pants and boxers that confined his hard on. His hand immediately flew to his cock, pumping it a few times to spread the pre cum that leaked through his tip.
He was bigger than you imagined. He had good girth, and his tip was blushed in a pretty shade of red and faded pink, the veins popping out from how hard he was. You could feel your mouth salivating at the view, the thought of having him on your mouth making you sigh. Before completely tossing his pants on the ground, Chan rummaged through one of the pockets, grabbing what he had brought on the plastic bag earlier and finally allowing you to see it, your face covered in red. He ripped the package of the condom with his teeth, his long fingers working fast and rolling the latex across his shaft.
“Really bad timing but…” You could see the concern on his face, his eyes shifting between your exposed groin and your face “Are you a… virgin?” Lee Chan bit his lip, clear anxiety adorning his handsome features. His concern was sweet to you.
“This may make you upset but no” You said with a little embarrassed smile. Sometimes you wish you could turn back time and have your first time with him, but you wouldn’t have the knowledge you have to please him. His face relaxed, a grin slipping through his lips.
“Not really, could not give two shits about your body count. I’m confident that you’re not gonna want anyone else after this” His confidence gave you butterflies on the stomach, your wet folds pooling liquid.
“As if I wanted someone else” You rolled your eyes playfully, earning a light chuckle from him. His smile took away all of the angst and evil boy image he had, your heart filling up with content. Dino adjusted himself, his tip teasing your hole and making you wiggle your hips a bit. He held you with one hand, strong grip pinning you down.
“Behave Y/N” His cut-through gaze looked back at you, his hips finally moving and length diving into your heat. You two hissed at the feeling, your walls clamping around his dick like vices, the wetness welcoming him in and making you swallow him whole in a single thrust. He was right, you would never want anything else than the sensation of Chan inside you, his cock filling you up just in the right way and resting perfectly there, as if you were made for him. He supported himself by putting both his elbows on each side of your face, his strong build caging you underneath him and pushing a few more inches inside you, your head thrown back and eyes rolling back to your skull. His lips glued to your neck, leaving wet kisses and even more hickeys across your skin as his hips started to move, slowly coming out and snapping back at full force, your whole body jointing with the movement.
Your hands grabbed his biceps, nails leaving red stripes and moon-shaped indents on his muscles while his gripped the pillow underneath your head, the tension making his forearms veins pop. Your moans filled his ears and gave goosebumps on his skin, the sensation of being the one making you almost scream in pleasure fuelling him further and making his hips pick up the pace, pistoning in and out of your cunt with force. You could feel your walls gripping him, yearning to milk him dry and to keep him inside till he couldn’t stand, the effervescent sensation running through your pussy and pilling up underneath your stomach, a coil quickly appearing as his thrusts kept typing you over an impossible edge. Dino’s mouth kept glued to your torso, his sloppy pecks and licks spreading across your chest as he spoiled your breast with attention, teeth nibbling at one of your nibbled before taking one of your boobs on his mouth, sucking and licking with no shame. Your hands traveled to his muscular back, the fire feeling of you scratching down bloodshot lines and marks shooting pleasure stings directly to Chan’s dick, balls swelling in the need to cum, his own coil bubbling right above his groin.
“Such a whore…” His voice sounded raspy, hands massaging your chest as his lips continued to work wonders around you, head fuzzy with the sensation of him on you “My whore, right baby?”
“Y-Yes, oppa” The title made both of you moan, your eyes barely open to see how his aura got fuller of itself, knowing he had managed to make you cockdumb within a few minutes.
“Good girl, all mine…” The cold piercing dragged across your neck, his teeth biting your skin and leaving marks that would last for days. His hips started to get quicker, the sound of skin to skin having your cunt wetter and gripping harder around him, your coil starting to get tighter, just like his. His low grunts and breathy moans became louder, following right along your chants of his name and dragged out whines, your bodies tensing up as your orgasms approached faster than expected and washed over you two like a wave. The white out spread throughout your vision, the shock of such an intense climax making your legs shake and cunt clench impossibly hard, begging for Dino to cum together, which he did. His own body took a screenshot, dick shooting ropes of cum onto the protection as he moaned your name on your ear, his melodic voice gracing your hearing before he let his body relax, gently laying on top of you like a blanket.
There was a few minutes of silence, just the two of you picking up your breaths, the sudden feel of heaviness and tiresome sinking down and settling on both of you. Your hands caressed his hair, your arms half hugging him while his did the same, caging you in a tight hug. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, lifting himself through his forearms before looking back at you. The image of him sweaty, hair falling into his forehead, blow out pupils and puffy red lips, cheeks tinted with light pink made your walls cramp again, a hiss coming out of his mouth.
“I just…” He tried to search through words, not knowing how to express his feelings properly without sounding either corny or cringy “There’s no other way of putting it. I love you, Y/N” Your heart thumped yet again loud inside your chest, your fingers caressing his face gently before pushing him in, mouth clashing with his in a heartfelt kiss, your actions saying much more than words could. His smile while kissing made you smile two, the lovey dovey atmosphere being almost dumb. Before Dino could continue further, you two heard a loud crash coming from the other side of the house, your bodies freezing.
“Y/N-yah! Dino-yah! I’m home! I bought some stuff for us to dine on!” Jeonghan’s voice made you bite your lip, the task of muffling a laugh failing as soon as your gaze crossed with Chan’s, you two giggling like teenagers. He slowly pulled out of you, the feeling of being empty leaving you a bit sad, but also eager to have him once again. Dino threw the used condom on the bin next to your desk, rummaging for his clothes and quickly dressing up so he could go talk to Jeonghan. Before leaving the room, he opened the door, lookin at you up and down with a hungry gaze, lips sliding upwards in a devilish grin.
“We’ll continue this later, baby. You’re not sleeping tonight”
#seventeen#seventeen dino#dino#lee chan#dino smut#lee chan smut#seventeen smut#seventeen scenario#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#gyuranhae#kpop smut#kpop scenario#kpop imagine#kpop fanfic#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagine#kpop imagines#dino scenarios#dino imagines#dino fanfic#lee chan scenarios#lee chan svt#lee chan imagines#lee chan fanfic#carat#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#seventeen jeonghan#seventeen au
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The Encore Performance
hello gang,, i wrote this so fucking long ago,, and it is not my greatest work but every time i open up my google docs this piece stares at me judgementally, yelling and screaming to be released to the world (it was written during peak eddie munson era in a fit of horniness, so maybe july 2022) pls enjoy the pwp
Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, oral sex (f!recieving), fem!reader, exhibitionism, eddie is kind of a perv in this sorry
Eddie’s eyes have been on you all night, fingers moving absentmindedly across the frets of his guitar. It’s like you want to drive him completely insane, your tits bouncing in your tiny little dress as you bang your head to the music, your glistening body bathed in the purple light of the club.
The air feels electric, charged and volatile; so different from the dingy yellow lighting of the Hideout. A new venue, a new crowd, and they’re fucking loving it. Eddie should be pandering to these new fans, trying to keep the band’s spot and maybe make these gigs a regular thing. Instead, his eyes are trained unwaveringly on you, his pretty, pretty girlfriend, supporting him and dancing to his music.
He has to spend the entire set rock hard under his jeans, grateful for the presence of his guitar over the obvious bulge of his cock.
The crowd still goes nuts after their last song, pleading for another encore, but Eddie’s frantic in trying to discreetly adjust himself before helping the guys put the stage equipment away. He knows how he must look, face sweaty and flushed, hair frazzled around his face. He hopes he can blame it on the adrenaline from the show and not how fucking horny he is.
He turns from placing an amp in Gareth’s truck to see you; giggling as you talk to one of the bartenders, your skin straining against the tight fabric of your dress. And though Eddie knows that you probably aren’t flirting, and that you’d definitely never cheat on him, he also sees how the bartender’s eyes are staring much lower on your body than where your eyes are, wiping off a glass slowly and deliberately. Eddie knows that you’d lay this guy out before he could try anything, but he also can’t help how his vision goes red as he stalks over.
“Eddie!” You smile when he finally gets to you, snuggling into his side while he puts a strong arm around your waist. “Jake,” you say, looking back at the bartender, “this is Eddie, my boyfriend. Eddie,” you look up at him with those big eyes he loves so much, “this is Jake.”
Eddie smiles at Jake, or tries to smile, it may come out more like a grimace, but doesn’t offer any kind of reply. Jake’s eyes widen minutely at the sight of him, and Eddie loves how he takes a small step back. Perks of being the Hawkins "devil worshipper" he guesses.
Jake’s eyes are suddenly anywhere but you, and Eddie struggles against the urge to snarl at him. He glances down at you to see your eyes furrow slightly in confusion, picking up on the fact that there’s definitely something wrong with your boyfriend.
“Baby,” Eddie says, squeezing the fat of your hip, “I gotta talk to you real quick, ‘s that alright?”
“Yeah, of course, Eds,” you say, and turn back to Jake. “Look, it was really nice meeting you, Jake. You have a good night, okay?” Jake mutters a quiet, "yeah, you too,” before turning away to wipe at a glass a little too harshly to be normal. But Eddie’s already dragging you away with the arm he has around your waist, bypassing the back door of the club to pull you down a long hallway.
“Eddie, what’s going o-” you try to say, but are swiftly cut off by Eddie’s lips on yours, his long body pressing you into the wall. You gasp into his mouth as his big hands slide from your hips down to the backs of your thighs, lifting them up to wrap around his waist.
“Jesus Christ, baby, you tryin’ to drive me insane out there?” he mutters into your mouth, pressing the obscene bulge in his jeans against the heat of your pussy through your thin panties. “Wearing this tight little dress, looking like a fucking whore, got everyone out there looking at you. But you’re mine, aren’t you baby? All fucking mine.”
All you can do is whimper softly in response, barely having the presence of mind to remember that there are people barely twenty feet away, people who could easily walk down this hallway and see what Eddie has reduced you to. Eddie pulls back from your plush lips to look at you, and then smirks like the bastard he is.
“You think you could stay quiet for me, pretty girl?” Eddie whispers, and doesn’t wait for a response before he’s gripping your thighs again while he drops to his knees, eye-level with your clothed cunt. He sets one of your feet on the ground to keep you standing while he hooks your other thigh over his shoulder, leaving you open and exposed, just for him.
“Eddie, I don’t-” you cut yourself off with a gasp when Eddie pulls your panties to the side and licks a long stripe up your dripping pussy. You clap a hand over your mouth as your eyes clench shut and your thighs tremble.
Eddie smiles up at you, his pretty girl, already wrecked from just the touch of his mouth. He keeps his fingers hooked into your panties, and finally allows himself to dive in, just like he’s been imagining since you walked out in your little dress.
You can’t hold back the whines echoing in the back of your throat as Eddie plunges his tongue deep into your pussy, the hardness of his nose pressing into your clit. Stay quiet stay quiet stay quiet. You’re trying to repeat the command in your head, but it’s so fucking difficult when Eddie shakes his head from side to side, starving for it. The movement makes his nose rub back and forth across your clit, and your hips jerk hard against his face, your free hand winding into Eddie’s thick hair.
“Eddie, Eddie, someone’s gonna hear baby, they’re gonna see, oh god,” you whisper softly, and you can feel the vibrations of Eddie’s quiet groans into your cunt.
You whimper softly when he pulls away from you to whisper, “then you better make yourself cum, pretty girl. The faster you cum, the faster I can take you home and fuck you properly.”
He dives in once again, this time wrapping his lips around your throbbing clit and sucking. You whine like a fucking animal, hips bucking and swiveling, trying to get away, trying to get closer. Eddie’s hands come up to grip tight onto your hips, his rings digging sharply into your flesh, and you relish in the idea of seeing harsh bruises in the shape of his fingertips tomorrow morning.
You can feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, almost painful with the need to cum. Your head snaps to the end of the hallway, and you see all of the people walking through the club, dancing and drinking. People who have no idea that Eddie’s eating your pussy with your dress hitched up and your panties pulled to the side. People who have no idea that you’re always so desperate for Eddie, that you’d let him fuck you any time, any place. They have no idea that you’re going to cum all over his face, and he’s going to walk out there with his messy hair and pretty eyes and your juices still on his lips, oh god-
You desperately suck air into your lungs to stave off your scream as you cum, pussy clenching and dripping all over Eddie’s face, your hips shaking uncontrollably.
“Eddie, Eddie, oh my god, Eddie, I can’t, I can’t, ‘s too much,” you whisper into the quiet of the hallway, the obscene sounds of Eddie licking at your cunt thundering in your ears. You can tell Eddie doesn’t want to stop, he never does, but you think you’ll start crying if he keeps going. You tug his hair roughly, wrenching him away from your cunt.
“Please, please kiss me, baby,” you whine, and Eddie can only nod at you, his face flushed and his lips puffy and shiny. Your thigh falls off his shoulder as he stands up to capture your lips in a filthy kiss. He tastes like cigarettes, beer and your pussy.
Eddie keeps holding onto your hips as they twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your eyes feel heavy, your brain mushy and weak.
“My beautiful girl, shit, all mine, y’look so pretty like this baby,” Eddie’s whispering, sneaking little kisses onto your lips in between words. “You wanna get out of here baby? C’mon, let’s get home, yeah?” You nod blearily, going to step forward, but your knees stay locked.
“Eddie,” you whisper, your foggy eyes going wide. “I don’t think I can move my legs.”
You watch Eddie’s brows furrow, and his lips perk up. He stares at your face, all flushed and flustered, and a snort escapes his nose. Soon enough, little giggles are escaping his lips, delirious and endlessly smug.
“Don’t laugh!” You whine, nuzzling your red face into his chest.
Eddie runs a comforting hand down your back as he tamps down his giggles. “Sorry baby, I’m sorry. It’s just, y’know, not many guys can say they’ve literally made their girl cum so hard they couldn’t walk.” You whine again, but Eddie shushes you gently. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you home, sweet pea.”
You don’t have time to wonder what he means by that before Eddie reaches down to cup one hand under your knees, the other staying under your back, and lifts you into his arms with a soft grunt.
“Eddie!” You squeak, but your boyfriend is already walking out towards the club again, paying no mind to the throngs of people still moving around you both. You tuck your burning face into his neck, giggling nearly hysterically, as Eddie whisks you away. You think you’d let him take you anywhere.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson smut#stranger things x you#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut
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Broo, imagine if breeding season effected itto omgomgomg, like imagine oni's having ruts and when they go into they're ruts the become super possessive and like.
Voyeurism, itto fucking you in front of his gang to remind them that your his lover, his marriage partner, his breeding hole, he's just all over you, fucking you deeply in a alley while forcing his gang to watch so they remember who you belong too. Sobbing rn, I need him smm.
Tagging @heizhoed Because her itto complex is... there is none like her. ft. Breeding kink, fem!reader, possession sex, voyeurism, itto being feral.
Absolutely. it has been such a rough week due to how badly mating season has effected itto. Every chance he'd obtain, he'd find some place, some time to pull you somewhere and fuck you. You didn't mind, especially knowing that if you didn't help him then it could result in him hurting physically.
He tried to be gentle. Itto isn't oblivious to his size, he's so much bigger than you are and he has to be gentle because using even a little too much strength could hurt you. He doesn't wanna hurt you because he loves his cute little wife so much :( — it isn't until he sees one of his puny gang members making moves on you from the distance that he can't help but get riled up. His breeding urges had already been eating him alive all week, but seeing someone even dare to speak to you with such a desiring glint in they're eye is what makes him act on them.
The next morning he doesn't hesitate to call a gang meeting, only to pull you into the nearest alleyway and fuck you against the strongly built wall that belonged to some irrelevant noodle shop. He tells, no— Demands that his gang watches him brutalize your innocent cunny.
His large palms cupping your ass while he slides his huge cock into your stretched pussy, it isn't easy — he's so big' n thick that it takes a couple of thrusts to get the tip to penetrate your hole cause that's just how big the oni is. once he manages to finally fit into your drooling pussy, he takes off — drilling his large cock into your aching cunt without a hint of remorse.
"You see?" itto snarled at his gang members, unintentionally baring his teeth while focusing on nothing but the way your tiny cunt stretched around his large dick, his huge dick that had you frozen against the wall. "Nobody can fuck her like i can."
The feeling of his cock rubbing against your gummy, tight walls and stretching them as well has you weak in the legs, thighs quivering at the way your boyfriend is so fully determined to fuck you until he's positive your full of nothing but his seed. The only thing on itto's mind is breeding you until your round and big with his kids. "Itto, baby — you gotta slow down, my legs are getting tired!" You sobbed, helplessly as he dug the tip of his messy cock deeper, ignoring your protest.
"You feelin' me in your tummy?" He asked, squeezing your ass for a response —in response you nodded, too ashamed of how much your enjoying this side of itto, how possessive he is. Your too shy to glance over and see the reaction of the arataki gang, although your positive they're getting off on watching they're huge boss pound his little wife's pussy, not missing a beat.
You begun feeling dizzy and weak, you can feel the little knot in your tummy untying itself, your about to cum — and judging by how itto's movements are getting so unorganized and sloppy, he's about to spill his load as well.
"m'gonna cum inside you, okay pretty baby?" He growls into your ear, breathlessly as his cock begun to twitch, it wasn't long before you had succumb to your orgasm, letting out a whine at the strong feeling of euphoria that overtook your little abused body — followed by itto's orgasm, a thick pearly cum oozing out of your stuffed pussy and staining the alleyway concrete below.
"Mine." were his only words, glancing back to look at his gang members. He certainly wasn't wrong, although once you catch your breath, you should let him know that the member who you were talking to earlier was just asking if itto was doing alright.
Xyhoo· · · · ✦ ― please do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work on any platform, or claim any of it as your own. 03/06/2023 - 2:55 am.
#『xyhoo's lingo』 ✦#—Xyhoothirsts ❀#arataki itto smut#arataki itto#genshin arataki#arataki itto x reader#itto arataki#arataki itto thirsts#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact smut#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact arataki itto#Genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact fanfiction#genshin impact fanfic
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⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧ you make lovin' fun - l. mckinney / 4k
synopsis. after admiring julie from afar at a college party, leland lays off and enjoys the rest of the night. only he’s sitting in a room with that metalhead that intimidates him and ends up having a night that changes the trajectory of his love life.
tags. smut - MINORS DNI. gender neutral, metalhead!reader. no use of y/n. stoner!danny gaines. drug use (weed). mild alcohol use. smoking. black cat x golden retreiver energy. unrequited love. one night stand. oral (male receiving). friends with benefits ending. possible part two???
Leland did not want to come off as a creep by any means, but he didn’t want to pass his chances at talking to the girl of his dreams. Yet, Leland wasn’t the only one crushing on Julie Crawford. She was a magnet for men and women alike. Surrounded in admiration and love, her energy is addictive and radiating. She was the life of the party and dare anyone to have her all to themselves and ruin the vibes. Leland kept to the walls, admiring her from afar, asking the odd person about her in casual conversation. “She’s a total babe,” one girl said, Leland assuming in a platonic way. Her friends were her guardian angels, interfering with prying men and keeping the conversation light. Anytime a guy took his shot, Julie’s friends were by her side, changing their course to the beer keg or smoking outside. Anything to protect her, to gossip and giggle at the men who thought they stood a chance. And with that, Leland saved himself from embarrassment, sipping his beer and enjoying the company that he had.
Sonny bailed at midnight. He said something about having to study before lectures. Leland only nodded and hugged him goodbye; there was no stopping Sonny and his academic determination. That left Danny as the last guy friend, but Leland needed to figure out where he was or if he even was at the party. Maria invited him when he could since he wasn’t a student, and most people liked him around for his weed. Speaking of weed, maybe Leland should find him. He’s feeling up for it.
“You seen Danny?” Leland asked Maria, finding her in the backyard. An idle smile on her face, a blazing joint between her fingers. Oh yeah, he is here.
“Try upstairs. He said something about feeling cold and needing to lie down,” Maria said, quickly returning to her conversation. Leland headed forth, downing the rest of his beer and dumping the solo cup in a trash can, ready to motion into a different head space.
Leland cautiously tried every room upstairs, preparing to walk in on people having sex. He got lucky and entered the second room with a polite knock, welcomed by the overwhelming smell of incense—tapestries galore on the walls, carpets softening the ground. Whoever’s room this was, they made it into the perfect smoking room. Leland discovered Danny lying in pure bliss in the sea of blankets and pillows underneath bed veils—an amused smile on his face.
“Danny,” Leland cooed, concealing a laugh. “Dude, wake up.”
Danny opened his eyes halfway, and his face faded. His smile grew wider at the sight of Leland. “How ya doin’, man? Great party, I feel fucking amazing.”
“That’s good to hear,” Leland chuckled, “You got anything left?”
Leland thought it wasn’t possible, but Danny's smile grew larger, his hand digging into his jeans pocket. “You bet I do,”
Danny humfed his body upwards, shuffling to the end of the bed where a weed tray lay. Leland took his place next to him, trying to act casual. He is good friends with most of the gang but still feels the need to act older than he was, being the youngest. They never looked down on him, and it still amazes him he made friends with the seniors as a college freshman. If his mother knew about it, she’d have a canary fit.
While Danny was preparing a joint, Leland noticed the person in the corner of the room for the first time. Danny caught his staring, following his gaze, a jolt of fright taking over him.
“Damn you, are you still sitting there? Fuck, you can be real scary sometimes.”
There you were, in all your intimidating glory, two stubs of a joint in an ashtray, a book in your hand. Eyes are dark, heavy, and smokey with liner. Your dark clothes blend into the shadows of the dimly lit room.
“Someone had to look out for you in case you choked on your vomit,” you remarked stoically. Danny nodded at the reasonability, flattered by the protection.
“Why you not down with the rest of the party?” Leland mustered the courage to ask, prepared for your cold gaze. Out of all the group, you were the one Leland felt the most distance from. You were kind of a shut-off, aloof, kept to yourself. Connie insisted that you're an absolute sweetheart once someone gets to know you. Yet, you looked ready to bite his head off whenever Leland conversed with you.
“‘Cause they’re not playing ‘Sabbath, I bet,” Danny teased, rolling the joint in his fingers. “Did I ever tell you if you were in Cali, you’d live in Spahn Ranch?”
You narrowed your eyes, “Fuck you,” dropping the book you were browsing and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, “I think you forget it was hippies like you that did that fucked up shit,”
Danny grinned, “Yeah, and your lot are eating bat heads. My apologies.”
Leland thought an argument would break out until the sound of laughter soothed his worries. It was the first time Leland saw you smile, somewhat allured by it. He’d like to see you do it more often; it was a pretty smile.
Leland tried not to stare at you too much while you smoked, your eyes scanning the two men. From Leland’s perspective, it looked like you were sizing them up, and he shuffled in his seat. You must have noticed this because a smirk grew on your face.
Danny finished his first joint and passed it along with a lighter to Leland. Leland thanked him, perking it between his lips. As he lit the end, he sucked in its flame, dropping the lighter and exhaling the smoke.
Time passed, and the night was slowing down, a muffled ambience as the room became another dimension from the party. Danny left at some point, probably back to Maria, so she didn’t start to worry, and you took your role as mediator for Leland, chilling in his hazy state. You were high, too, but all it did was relax you, its side effects not hitting you like a ton of bricks. You stick a record on the turntable, keeping the volume low, relighting a new incense stick and keeping an eye on Leland idle on the bean bag across from you, his eyes staring into space. A tug of a smile was visible on his face as he heard the hum of the music, motioning his hand to turn it up. You turned it one notch higher, amused at his state.
“This okay?” You ask. It was a song you can tolerate. Seeing Leland nod along with it was amusing enough, and you sat in the spare bean bag next to him.
With the proximity, Leland realised it was only the two of you together. He thought about Julie, wondering where she was and how she was enjoying her night. Then he looked at you. Instead of his heart sinking, it was beating faster.
“Connie was right about you,” Leland drawled, a smile on his face.
You frown, then scoff, surprised anyone is talking about you. Sure, Connie was your friend, an unexpected one at that. When you came to college, you expected not to make any friends. “Oh yeah? What’s Connie saying about me?”
Leland gathered his words together, his brain slower than usual. You watch the gears turn in his head, trying not to relish in it too much. There was something so endearing about him in this state. He looked less like a jerk, which was how you view any guy who peaked in high school. Leland was your run-of-the-mill popular guy, trying to continue his legacy in college and failing miserably. You knew he was a wrestler but dropped out before graduating, losing out on the scholarship and having to build from the ground up. His parents might have been pissed off about that, but there was something about it you admired. It showed hard work, determination, and ‘following your dreams’. It’s one of the first things you liked about him.
“Connie said… You’re a nice person once you get past the hard exterior,” Leland articulated, freezing when he saw your still face.
“Didn’t you think I was a nice person before?” You glared at him.
Leland began stumbling over his words, trying to defend himself. You burst into laughter. And there it was, that smile you showed before that stopped Leland in his tracks. It could win awards and make people faint and applaud. He couldn’t help but stare at you longer than he should.
“Well, right there is the evidence. You have a habit of… How should I say it? Pushing people away?” Leland pondered, “That sounds rude, sorry-”
You wanted to object, but he was right. It’s a habit of yours. You’re used to judgement and ridicule. It’s better to keep people at arm's length to avoid it. It saves all the hurt that comes with it. “Like usual, Connie is right. You have nothing to say sorry for,”
The look in your eyes told a thousand stories. Leland sensed this is something you feel to your core, a plague waiting to be lifted. How much could happen in one night? Is it enough to convince you you are deserving of admiration? Maybe it was the weed, but he had so much to give.
“Y’know, before tonight, I was like everyone else. I was so intimidated by you. Not only because I was scared of you but because you’re the coolest person in any room you enter. You defy everything, all the bullshit we have to conform to. I always assumed you don’t care what people think of you,” Leland argued.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, not at Leland, but how the compliments he voices are the very problem why you can’t connect with people. You’re not the person they bring home to meet the parents. You’re not the person authority approves of. Assumptions about you are thrown towards you in every corner, and trying to dodge them gets tiring.
“That’s my problem, though. I am everything you said, but I care what people think about me. I just want someone to like me how I am,” your words almost turn into a whisper, the vulnerability making you feel out of place. You never expected to be like this with any guy, let alone Leland.
He looked at you momentarily, debating the move he was yearning to make. But was it the right thing to do? You began sheltering again, patronised by his puppy dog eyes. In a desperate moment, he reached for your hand, cupping it in yours. His thumb caressed your knuckles, and he felt your fingertips coil against his hand.
“Don’t,” you warned, yanking your hand out of his grasp. Leland furrowed his brows.
“Why?” Was Leland’s only question, his eyes refusing to leave your averting gaze.
“I’m not dumb, McKinney. You have no right to go all lover boy on me. You like Julie, and only Julie,” you made eye contact with him, your eyes cold and stern.
Leland looked at you as if to say, ‘How did you know that?’ and you sighed.
“Everyone knows, dumbass. You make it so obvious.”
Leland bowed his head, a blush creeping up his neck, and he rubbed the nape to soothe its burning sensation. Now he’s hyper-aware of his predicament, making you feel like a rebound or a second choice. Guilt washes over him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Maybe it’s the weed. I’m just not thinking straight.”
Your gaze softens, but you shrug your shoulders, and another sigh leaves your lips. “Have you ever tried getting over her? Like, fucking other people?”
Leland looked at you like you had two heads. “No, never. Flings are not my thing,” he said, shutting down the absurdity.
You couldn’t help but laugh, your smile down-turning. Leland melted at the sight of it once again. “You’re in college and looking for a future wife? Dude, this is the time to experiment! ‘Beats staring at Julie all night and feeling sorry for yourself. Let off some steam. You can like who you like but still have fun. She’s probably doing the same. In fact, I know Julie, she’s definitely doing the same,”
Leland was torn between relief and heartbreak at the information, the thought of her with another clawing at his feelings, but knowing if he takes your advice, he won’t be seen as different if the chance with Jules comes. He ignores his internal conflict and turns to you, “Is that what you do?”
You debate on answering that question, wanting to keep the information private. “Yes, I do. Sure, I have crushes, people I wanna be with. But I also don’t wanna follow them around like a lost puppy, especially when they don’t like me back.” Was that right? Did you make it too obvious? You looked at the very man you were talking about, reassured by his oblivious stare that had a hint of tenderness. You tried not to let it draw you in, your gaze darting away from Leland’s soft features—the warmth of his skin, the glint in his eye. If you were Julie, you’d take him in a heartbeat. You kept your face in its familiar stoic stance, but Leland saw a flicker of softness in your eye. Throughout the conversation, he noticed you were glaring at him less, as if you were warming up to him. He didn’t know what to think, so he moved on to his next question. “So… should I go out there and hook up with someone? See if it changes my mind?” Leland was hesitant, biting his lip in thought.
Your thoughts got the best of you, and so did Leland’s. Now, looking at each other was like looking directly at the sunlight. “Or you could just stay here… with me.”
Working you out made Leland feel he was reading a book in another language. He couldn’t help but scoff, shifting his body to face you directly, smirking. “A minute ago, you weren’t up for that idea.”
You rolled your eyes, admitting defeat but still sitting defiant. This back-and-forth was complicated but intriguing. “Well, now I’ve changed my mind. You need help getting over Julie, and I need to work on not pushing people away.”
Leland was questioning your intentions, wondering how sincere it was. His heart was racing, and he cursed his bodily reactions, biting his cheek in response to the blush on his face.
You rise from the bean bag, Leland’s eyes following you, craning his neck to look up at you. You stood over him, hands on either side of your hips. There was a seductiveness to the darkness looming over you. Leland shifts in his seat, his eyes lingering on your figure.
“Besides, we both need to loosen up in our own little ways. Maybe we can help each other,” you say, liking how Leland looked at you. You’ve wanted him to look at you like that for a long time—a stare mixed with longing and bashfulness. You had to admit, it was cute.
You gently steady your thighs on either side of Leland’s hips, placing yourself onto his lap, studying his face for any sign of rejection. You would adhere to his objections, but you manifested he only encouraged you. You wished for him to like you just as much as you like him. You weren’t ready to confess to him, so you suggested this predicament. It’s casual enough to come across as a one-off thing, with no feelings attached, but passionate enough to find pleasure in this unique twist of fate. Hooking up with him, at this moment, was the only chance you might get before he moved on to pursue Julie, so you felt like enjoying it while you could.
Leland rested his hands on your waist, reigning your body with his, glancing from your smokey eyes to your lips. He was surprised to feel the warmth he would typically protest in his core. Leland was honest when he said he wasn’t the type of guy to have one-night stands. All his sexual encounters involved someone he loved. He likes you, of course. He likes the way you look at him and how you make him feel. But love can’t happen overnight, surely not. He loved Julie the minute he laid eyes on her. With you, it feels . . .
Leland became distanced from his thoughts at the sensation of your lips meeting his, soft and passionate, ceiling the tension between you into a physical reality. Your hands brush the hairs on his neck, cupping his soft skin and sending goosebumps down his spine with your cold touch. Leland instinctively wraps his arms around you, his hand snaking up your back underneath your shirt and onto your bare skin. You gasp between his lips. Your eyes flicker open momentarily. The passionate stare in your gaze ignites a fire in him, his breath heavy in the hot air.
Leland’s butterflies crescendo in his stomach as you motion lower and lower down his body. Trailing kisses down his neck, his breath hitching at the odd nip of his skin between your teeth. You peer up at him teasingly, and Leland anticipates your steps. You seemed like the type to be unpredictable, and Leland’s body tenses under yours, making you slow down and unbutton his shirt, leaving soft kisses.
“Don’t worry, I can be gentle,” You reassured, relaxing your coiled smile and giving a genuine look of understanding. “You don’t have to be scared of me,”
“You don’t have any… weird fetishes, do you?” Leland asked, just in case.
You couldn’t help but laugh, sliding his shirt open and exposing his abdomen, trying your hardest not to freak out at the sight of his lean muscles. Your fingers trace his snail trail, your eyes catching the presence of his bare chest. It was rare nowadays to see a well-groomed man. And consistently, Leland defies your expectations. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. I’ll keep it light, just for you.” You tease.
“Yeah, I’d like that. This is nice,” Leland chuckled, relieved of his worries.
You continue to unbuckle the belt on his jeans, unbuttoning loose enough to tug his bottoms down his legs. You hooked your fingers over his boxers along with it, anticipating the reveal. Leland helped you with his jeans, lifting his hips to run them down. His hard dick springs into place, resting below his stomach, the tip inches away from his belly button. His length kindles a look of mischief in your eyes, and Leland notices it when he looks for your reaction.
“You’re full of surprises, McKinney.” You purr.
“Really?”
“Oh, stop humbling yourself,” you tut, relishing in his awe as you trailed your fingers down his shaft, wrapping your digits around his girth. Warming him up, you teased the tip with your tongue, arousing Leland with your alluring stare. He brushed your hair from your face, caressing his fingers along your jawline, eyes lulling at the breathtaking sight of you.
You took him pretty well, taking Leland aback, the sensation tensing his muscles. With the afterthought of weed, and the feeling of your slick, warm mouth engulfing his cock, it stirred a sense so blissful he grew lightheaded. Leland moaned your name, his tone so gentle and appreciative. His hands caressed your head, motioning with your steady pace, his fingers tightening in your locks when your tongue massaged his shaft. Every shift of his body was a thanks for the pleasure you gave him. And as your mouth adjusted to his length, you buried his cock deeper inside, gag nonexistent as his tip touched the back of your throat, your spit coating your plumped lips.
“Holy fucking shit,” Leland cursed, his whines heavy. “That feels amazing.”
He began to buck his lips, unable to help himself, addicted to the feeling of your mouth, completely enamoured. You allowed his eagerness, surprised at his gentle strokes, your moans muffled. Your jaw grew stiff, and you squeezed your eyes shut, but Leland was reading your mind, pulling out for you to gather air. You gasped, your head lightheaded, drunk on his precum, pooling on the base of your tongue. Like clockwork, you stuffed him back into your mouth, fully committed. Hollowing your cheeks, swirling your tongue, drawing his dick with your lips, from base to tip. It was driving Leland insane.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” he pleaded, “feels s’ good.”
Swelling with pride, you picked up the pace, breathing steadily through your nose. Pinning Leland’s thighs deeper into the bean bug, the crush of the fabric overshadowed by the gentle moans whispering from Leland’s lips, fighting the urge to ejaculate, the knot in his stomach swelling and ready to release.
“I think I’m gonna . . .” His face is scarlet. You rest a steady hand on his solid abdomen, the glisten of sweat collecting under your nails that dug into his skin. The pattern of his abs turning your brain to mush, heat collecting at your crotch at the act of pleasuring such a pretty, handsome boy. You gaze up at him under your lashes, succumbing to his brows furrowed together, his mouth agape, pulling such a cute face. Fuck, he was perfect.
Your quick pace soon brought Leland to a close, instinctively pushing your head down his length, coating your throat with his hot seed. He cursed under his breath at the overwhelming pleasure. He rutted out his high, loosening the grip on your hair.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rough,” Leland chuckled nervously, hoping he didn’t piss you off.
You greeted him with a sly stare, tasting him on your tongue, swallowing his cum with one swift gulp, licking your lips clean. Leland pulled his jeans back on before helping you to your feet. You struggled to stand with your stiff knees, feeling Leland’s arms snake around your waist to keep you steady.
“How’d you like that then, lover boy?” You hesitantly ask, half expecting the post-nut clarity to hit him.
Leland thought for a moment, “I mean . . .” He chuckled, “Words can’t describe it.”
He still looked at you the same as before, if not more intensely. His grip on you never loosened. He cupped your face, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone, and you almost gave in to him.
“What about you? Don’t you think you deserve some love?” Leland airly said, a gentle smile on his face. He didn’t want the night to end.
“I think that’s enough for today,” You chuckle, pulling out of his embrace. You try to ignore the smile fading from his face, replaced with those sad puppy eyes that weaken you.
“C’mon, now I feel like a jerk,” Leland whined, walking after you, trying to block you from the door. “At least tell me the next time I’ll see you.”
“Oh, there’s gonna be a next time?” You cock your eyebrow. “What happened to just having a fling?”
“I told you that’s not my thing,” Leland teased, trying to contain his smile. You balance the smirk growing on your face by narrowing your eyes. “Let’s say next Friday? You free?”
It came as a surprise seeing him put in the effort. Most guys just finish and bail. You started to question if you bit off more than you could chew. He’ll bail once he has his chance with Julie. Or maybe his heart has turned in another direction. Heading straight towards you, gazing at you with those eyes you get lost in. No… You must keep your guard up, not get your hopes up.
“See you next week, lover boy. But don’t get all romantic with me, ok? Or I’ll puke on you.” You established, swinging the door open and swaggering out of the room, acting as casual as possible for passersby. Leland lingers by the doorframe, grinning from ear to ear.
“Great! It’s a date! See ya then!”
You roll your eyes with a flattered smile, wondering what you have gotten into. Becoming friends with benefits with your crush wasn’t on your 1972 bingo card.
#leland mckinney#leland mckinney x reader#tcm game#texas chainsaw massacre#smut#gender neutral reader#creepling.brainrot
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TTRPG Read-Through: Patchwork World
Here is a read-through I did last year (originally posted on Twitter) of one of the most unique PbtA games I've ever read: Patchwork World by Aaron King! - Christian
Credits up first. I know a lot of these folks and they are really cool! Excited to dig into this. I've heard good things, and it's been a while since I've read or played any Powered by the Apocalypse.
This is a cool, strong set up for me. I really like settings that ask characters to face a changing world and either take up change themselves or work to restore the old way of things. It's a headspace I find myself in a lot IRL these days so it's fun to explore.
I'm interested to see how the no stats, no playbooks angle of this game works, considering playbooks are typically such a staple of PbtA games.
Standard three-tired success, mixed success, fail forward resolution for rolls here and questions on the moves determine your bonus to the roll. Easy peasy. +2 is the max bonus.
Other types of rolls are described here. Interested to see how they come into play. I also love clocks and use them in pretty much every game I run so it's nice to see those laid out here too.
We just love a lil guy, don't we folks?
A good chunk of the opening here is spent on laying out a lot of solid foundations of roleplaying generally. It feels like a book (so far) that would work for entirely new players. It doesn't feel essential for me, but I never mind a game that supports varied experience levels.
Character creation is wide open, especially since there aren't playbooks and the text stresses that character creation is very much worldbuilding because of this. Fate-like concepts and tags are in here too which are things I generally enjoy. I like the Drawback mechanic.
Moves are in the playback I set in the other room so I'm gonna go grab those. You get two chosen moves and everyone has access to a number of default moves. You've got three other life/XP things to keep track of too. I'm especially interested in Hex.
There are a lot of moves! They seem quite varied and often very weird, fitting well with the titular patchwork world. You can have a duck's slick soul to dodge more easily or a magical space suit or speak to birds or be good at cartography. Overwhelming, but in an exciting way.
You also choose a community as a party. While PCs all have their original homelands (before the end of the old worlds), you know have a community that gets its own little sheet. This is a cool reshaping of the Gangs from Blades. I also like how the community can change over time.
Coming back to a PbtA game after months of more OSR-minded stuff, I think a lot of what these games contain are things that experienced players would say you could just do in any game at any time that it makes sense in the story, but I do find value in stating what's possible.
Esp since many players come to games with artificial limits on their options (whether that's from video games, more traditional RPGs, etc.). I just think good GMing here requires making sure that the players don't limit themselves just to the bevy of explicit options either.
GM moves (mostly to guide the response to failed rolls). I really think the community aspect of this set up is one of the biggest appeals to me so far. That and the wild list of moves, which I'm sure makes for amazing parties of characters.
I always feel like it's never something I should be in my own writing (for some probably unnecessary reason), but I enjoy the first-person, casual writing style throughout the book. Makes for a very chill read.
Good to see this game employs the Branson Reese style of NPC naming.
Stress acts as a single catch-all health and challenge rating for NPCs. Ideally, I'd hope this would help lead to the PCs approaching encounters with more than just violence.
Sections like this are what I'm referring to when I say this book feels very friendly to new players. It's got little anecdotes and thoughts like this throughout.
Look, it's been a while since I've seen A Christmas Story but... it didn't have ghosts in it right?
There's a sample adventure in the back (which I'll skip for this read-through) plus loads of random tables. Some wonderfully bizarre stuff in the characters and faction tables. Really gives you a good idea for how gonzo you can go with the setting.
Love these two in particular
Optional rules include hard mode (which I just think is kind of funny to see in PbtA, but could be cool if you lean heavy into the post-apoc setting) and some optional moves. I like that some moves focus on romance, something I enjoy IRL but never think to focus on in games.
I was wondering why this was the sixth edition!
That's all for the book itself. Going back to the packet to dig into the things I missed. Some expected bits in here but always one or two unique options I really enjoy. Leaking hex is cool (and could have some troubling cascade effects in certain situations).
I definitely wish, at least in sitting down to read like this, that the contents of the player packet was also in the book itself. I think PbtA has this tendency of leading to loads of pages on the table, but it can make them very easy to pick up and play or to learn as you play.
That element is definitely here, but I think the vast number of wide-ranging moves and the excitement that would drum up in my player group would more than makeup for that initial overwhelming feel of "whoa, that's a lot of papers out on the table".
Overall, it's the most I've wanted to play a game in this style in a while. I like that the base setup for the world is very much up to the players to determine via the characters they make. I like that PCs here will probably feel unlike any other folks have played before.
The community aspect feels like where I'd want to center my story around, as a player. Seeing that shift and change over time feels like it would be very rewarding and would help lean into the "the old world is dead, what do we want the new world to look like?" theme I enjoy.
Because Aaron King is cool and recently hit a lot of Twitter followers, Patchwork Worlds is now Pay-what-you-want over on Itch.
I'm not sure if physical copies are readily available. For full disclosure (guess I should have said this up front), I got this copy for free from Aaron! Not for the purposes of this thread or anything, just for fun a while back.
Thanks for reading more ramblings from me! If you like to do that sort of thing, check out my newsletter - Missives from the MeatCastle. It's got writings on my work, cool stuff I've run across the web in the last month, and exclusive rpg stuff! https://meatcastle.substack.com
#indie ttrpg#ttrpg#ttrpgs#rpg#fantasy#science fiction#pbta#powered by the apocalypse#aaron king#patchworld world#sixth edition#read through
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UTMV WRITING MASTERLIST
(because i write too much and don't know when to shut up or organize my blog smh)
all my "complete" writings should be tagged #i write
i do have some series that are also tagged:
🐟🐇 mermaid bunny au: a doomed kist story where dust's one-sided affections for killer turns toxic. loosely based on many mermaid mythologies and iconographies, as well as other fairy tales and folklores -- tagged #fic: mermaid bunny
the concept post that starts it all. and its continuation.
dating start! - cross takes dust on a date per nightmare's order.
the debriefing - what happens after the date.
in your eyes - the new killer has some difficult time sleeping.
when the fog thickens, blurring one's sight - a look into dust's irregular dream.
rivers of red - killer has a one-sided argument with dust.
🛜 netverse:
an alternate multiverse focused on mtt poly where murder is a true crime mukbang micro-celebrity, killer is a serial killer, and horror is a somewhat well-adjusted park ranger. mostly in conceptual phase right now -- tagged #netverse or #murder mukbang au (when focused on murder)
bump in the night - murder and killer have their meet-disaster.
you'll never take the blame like me - killer sees a familiar face. he's not happy about it.
❤️ bitter end:
an alternate multiverse with a more supernatural twist to it. will be expanded upon as the story progresses. this is a series of longer fics so i'm putting it up on ao3 instead of here. slow updates because i want to make this one good.
are you satisfied with an average life - about a dusttale sans in the bad sans gang -- tagged #fic: are you satisfied
also includes my own golden thread au, mostly focused on frisk and chara -- tagged #golden thread au
🪽 the angel: an interactive fic where killer goes through the most surreal day of his life -- tagged #fic: the angel
one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - intermission - ???
ao3
📝 other writings:
all my other writings that don't necessarily fit in any au
a happy life - set in something new au. about killer and chara.
i dream of one so far away, far away - cross and killer in a twisted fluffy relationship.
figure by the window - blue and dream encounter a weird sighting.
don't feed the hungry spirit - dream-eater nightmare fulfills a request from an insomniac dusttale sans.
will love come to me someday? - unhinged love triangle between the murder time trio.
just a quick stop - fluffy kist meets multiversal travel mishaps.
your hand-grenade heart - cross comes across a place he didn't expect to see again.
kinda miniseries of cross being bullied by the murder time trio (rip to him):
a little trust exercise - horror and cross do a little trust exercise.
stealth lesson - a little play of hide-and-seek between cross and the murder time trio.
dining etiquette - killer teaches cross how to eat like a proper henchman of nightmare.
⚠️ all my 18+ writings will be labelled mature and under this tag #certified freaky post (please don't access this if you're a minor. i prefer if you block it too. thank you.)
dividers by @\k1ssyoursister
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